


Among the Rest of Us (On Pause)

by Everlasting_Wonders



Series: Among the Rest of Us [1]
Category: Among Us (Video Game), Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Cuddles, False Accusations, Fear of Death, Ghosts, Imprisonment, Isolation, Mentions of Death, Minor Character Death, Mistrust, Murder, Murder Mystery, My First Fanfic, Outer Space, POV Third Person, Permadeath, Secrets, Space Flight, Swearing, Transition from Season 7 to Season 8, Violence, backstabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlasting_Wonders/pseuds/Everlasting_Wonders
Summary: The blissful peacefulness of Season 7 has unfortunately come to an end, and the Hermits must now embark on their journey through the uncharted wastelands of space to reach Season 8's world. When their engines suddenly cut out and Hypnotizd's mutilated corpse turns up, suspicions and arguments immediately begin to arise among the group. Will they be able to find the traitor in time, or will the body pile only continue to grow?----------------------------------This work is on hold until further notice!
Series: Among the Rest of Us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932514
Comments: 40
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever fan-fiction! I'm excited to share this story with you all, and feedback is highly appreciated. From the moment I saw Among Us become popular, I couldn't resist putting out a story involving the game and the Hermits. Without further ado, enjoy the chapter!

A soft smile parts Grian’s lips as he lays on top of Town Hall’s roof, a leg lazily swinging off the edge of the building as he gazes up in amazement at the scene before him. He watches as the Sun begins to set over the HermitCraft SMP, eyes enchanted by the pleasant array of pinks and oranges caused by the dying light.

The dazzling stars in the sky only added to the pure beauty of the sky, a gentle reminder as to why sunsets were his favorite part of the day. A soft hum escapes his lips as the bright colors begin to fade to black, the Sun descending over the horizon. His fingers outstretch toward it, almost as if to keep the bright star in its place.

_Please stay..._

Grian sighs as the Sun ignores his silent plea, eyebrows furrowing slightly when the last bit of pink falls victim to the darkness of the night. A gentle breeze causes him to instinctively fiddle with his red sweater with his other hand, whispering a reminder that he was resting on top of a building.

He lowers his outstretched hand to rub at his eyes, a short yawn escaping him. It’d been days since the last time he slept and he could finally feel the effects of exhaustion pulling at his eyelids. His current state of fatigue feels...different from the time when he stayed up three nights in a row. To be fair, this would be a new record for him regarding the amount of time he’s stayed up.

His sacrifice of sleep was definitely worth it, successfully captivating his last fond memories of Season 7.

Mumbo had inquired him about his sleeping schedule a couple days earlier, but the shorter had insisted that the older not worry. He understood his limits and would sleep when he knew it was necessary. Besides, it wasn’t like his typical job on the ship required him to be fully awake. If he’s lucky, he could probably sneak a nap into his schedule while everyone’s boarding the vehicle.

The Redstone genius had no time to protest against his point; Grian had immediately disappeared into the sky leaving behind nothing but a whoosh from his rockets.

The Hermit forces his eyes open at the memory, an eyebrow raising when he feels his communicator vibrate. He can’t help but bite his lip as he ponders whether he should open the message or not. It could be XisumaVoid attempting to round everyone up and usher them off to the next planet.

Grian's stomach twists at the thought of having to leave this world. He’s placed so many hours of hard work into this season and had grown fond of his mansion. Why couldn’t they stay for a couple more months? Why did they even feel the need to move to another world in general?

In his opinion, nobody had traveled far enough to reach the world’s limit, signifying that there was more than enough space for them to simply move a couple hundred-thousand blocks one way and start from scratch in that new area.

Sure, the Ender Dragon would still have been vanquished, and half the loot chests would be raided, but Season 7 held its own special charm that no other season possessed.

Grian’s eyes glance sideways when his communicator vibrates again, sitting up despite his rib cage groaning in protest. One tap later and a holographic screen with a new message greets the short Hermit.

 _< MumboJumbo>_ Are you not even going to get a wink of sleep tonight?

The gremlin rolls his eyes at the question, not understanding why the mustached man was concerned. He’s perfectly fine! He’s just been caught up relishing in all the memories he’s gathered from the season.

 _< Grian>_ Unfortunately, that’s top-secret information

 _< Grian> _Napping would be a good idea for you, though, Mr. MumboJumbo

 _< MumboJumbo> _I don’t believe you have much room to talk!

 _< Grian> _How dare you!

 _< Grian> _As the King of Sleep, I command you to take a nap

Grian could already imagine Mumbo’s baffled expression in response to his message, feeling content with using that as his finishing text. He attempts to resettle back on the roof of Town Hall until he’s interrupted by yet another vibration from his communicator.

 _< Docm77>_ If you guys don’t switch to DMs in five seconds, I’m coming over and destroying both your communicators.

 _< MumboJumbo> _Sorry, Doc

 _< Grian> _Sounds like someone’s in desperate need of a nap

The newest Hermit could’ve sworn he could hear the hybrid typing an angered response and gathering his rockets from miles away.

 _< Grian> _Kidding, kidding!

With another sigh, he unlatches his communicator from his arm, gently tossing it two blocks away from him. The thought of typing out a private ‘good night’ toward Mumbo is immediately abandoned at the idea of accidentally putting it in the main chat. He wouldn’t be surprised if other Hermits had been angry over their messages but had been too polite to say anything about it.

Either that or Doc beat them to it.

Grian rolls onto his side, his elytra acting as a blanket to protect him from the cool night’s breeze. His eyelashes flutter as he feels sleep begin to pull him under once again, remaining outstretched on the tall building’s roof. It had been a lovely place to watch the SMP’s last sunset on, enabling the blonde to enjoy the last few rays of sunlight that would stem from the dying star.

It’s a shame that it’ll be the last fond memory he’ll have of Season 7.

Or perhaps the lack of death this season will be his last fond memory. The server had desperately needed a break from the subject of death after grief overcame the server during Season 6. The claws of death had selfishly yanked away Python, the man having been left to become a splatter on the ground after his elytra's durability ran out in the dead of night. His untimely demise last season had shocked everyone on the server, the disaster happening a mere week before the move to Season 7. A funeral service had been held not even a day after his demise, and every project relating to the new season had immediately been put on pause.

Grian had been deeply affected by Python’s death, the example of permadeath displaying its power sending him into a state of shock. A silent vigil was held every night in respect for the deceased, an event the short Hermit attended while locked away in his base. He didn’t come out to explore the world for the last time that week, only showing his face when it was time to be assigned a job on the ship and to board it.

Mumbo was nothing but a sweetheart toward him during that time; he constantly offered comforting reminders that a Hermit’s death rarely ever happened on the server. The man appeared to be in an optimistic mood, but Grian knew that deep down, the mustached man was trapped in his own grieving mind.

Comforting another was the only coping mechanism the Redstone engineer was aware of.

Grian could feel a lump form in his throat at the recollection of the journey to Season 7. Cries and wails of sorrow had echoed throughout each desolate hall each night, sagging shoulders a common sight as Hermits sobbed into their hands. Joehills and Stressmonster had immediately been overloaded with healing bloody tears, barely able to pull themselves together with the weight of Python’s death and everyone’s condition on their shoulders.

Not even XisumaVoid had been able to remain strong, the admin locking himself away in his room and only communicating through chat. Even Keralis had been shoved away, the vehicle engineer often found resting outside the main quarters when off duty, offering soft lullabies for his friend to listen to through the door.

The Hermits could be mistaken as zombies during that time, each member numbly going through their scheduled routine without uttering a word. The silence was suffocating, especially for a social Hermit like Grian.

He feels his chest constrict at the thought of not being spoken to during their trip to Season 7, bright blue eyes beginning to blur with anxious tears. He can’t take it. He needs someone to use as an escape from the claws of death. He needs someone who can promise to never let Death catch up to them, that can promise that they’ll never leave his side.

Grian suddenly yelps when he feels a cold grip on his shoulder, bolting upright and twisting away from the grasp.

“Whoa, whoa. Gri! Calm down!”

Said Hermit immediately flops onto his back at the familiar voice, his heart still pounding in his chest. “You scared the living daylights out of me, Mumbo!”

Grian glances up at those rich green eyes flooding with concern over his friend’s behavior. He lazily waves a hand up to signify that the man’s presence had simply surprised him.

“I scared the living daylights out of you? You scared me! Xisuma announced the meeting’s start 40 minutes ago and you never showed up or texted a response!”

The blonde Hermit immediately lunges for his communicator at the given information, blue eyes scanning through the messages to confirm that people had been searching for him for 40 minutes. At least 80 messages had been exchanged after Mumbo and Iskall asked if anyone had heard from Grian.

_For how long have I even been gazing at the stars?_

A hand immediately smacks his forehead, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Oh-I, I’m sorry. Must’ve gotten caught up with the-” Grian swallows in order to keep himself from continuing in a hushed whisper, “-sunset and night sky.”

MumboJumbo can’t help but shake his head at the gremlin’s shenanigans. “Don’t worry yourself over it. I’m just glad I found you before a phantom did.”

The taller immediately turns to glide off the roof and towards the direction of the ship, choosing to ignore the glare shot his way. He only glances back to ensure the blonde could keep up, slowing his elytra’s pace so his best friend could fly beside him.

The pair allow a comforting silence to rest between them as they make their way toward the grand spacecraft, Grian’s bright blue eyes watching the waves quietly crash into each other a few miles below. A soft sigh escapes his pink lips, carefully gliding down to run his fingers through the gleaming ocean for the last time.

He gracefully soars just above the ocean’s surface, forcing himself not to pull away when the icy water kicks at the soft skin on his finger. Perhaps Season 8 would bring delightful memories like this season had. There wouldn’t be the concern of death looming over the Hermits shoulders, only jokes and pranks prepared to be let loose as soon as they stepped onto the new planet.

Grian momentarily closes his eyes to focus on the beating of his calming heart, finger drumming the water in rhythm to the beating organ.

“So, this is it.”

Mumbo glances down at his companion, almost having missed the short Hermit’s comment.

“I suppose it is.”

Silence once again erupts between the two, the sound of rockets being set off desperately attempting to break the calmness of the night.

Grian pulls his gaze away from the ocean when the unmistakable lights of the spaceship reflect off the waves, a rocket flinging him away from the dark depths of the sea and up towards the crescent of the silver moon. He allows his elytra's wingtips to fling forward as he begins to fall with his back to the ground, analyzing the bright white stars winking down at him. His eyebrows raise as his awe-inspired gaze mirrors the beauty of the sky, choosing to ignore the whipping of wind against his back as he begins to approach land. 

His lungs begin to whine in protest when the harsh wind deprives him momentarily of air, finally twisting into an upright position to catch himself midair. From there, he gently glides to the ground, taking a seat beside Mumbo who had been watching him with a friendly smile.

"Did you ever catch sight of the sunset? It was baffling, absolutely breath-taking."

Grian allows a soft laugh to escape his lips, enthusiastically nodding. "It definitely was a sight! I wish I'd of watched the sunset from Town Hall's roof more often, though."

"Maybe we'll get the chance to watch the new world's sunset on top of a forest's canopy together, maybe even create an observatory for us to relax in."

"Look at you, Mumbo, already brainstorming brilliant ideas for the new world. Just don't be surprised when it leaves you 'chuffed to bits'." Grian teases, sticking a tongue out toward the taller. He lightly punches his arm when the Redstone genius sticks his tongue out as well, the man faking a scowl in response.

A small tap on his shoulder distracts the gremlin from making another silly face at Mumbo, a turn resulting in his gazing upon a reflection of his face. He immediately waves a greeting toward the admin, having to tilt his head up slightly to meet the amusement shining in Xisuma's kind eyes.

“Good to see Mumbo was able to find you before we all boarded. Pulling off your last bit of mischief before the new season, I presume?"

His lip curves upward in a playful grin, offering a short nod.

"He simply can't help himself," Mumbo inputs with his own grin.

"Hey!"

XisumaVoid laughs at Grian's yell of protest, a hand gesturing toward the ship. "Unfortunately, you missed the announcing of everyone's jobs. It's more-or-less the same as last time, but this time you'll be helping Doc out with the bridge. You'll be his Admin Assistant, and Mumbo, you'll return as our trusty communication officer."

Grian offers a witty salute, chest puffing out slightly, "Yes, sir! You can trust us to do our tasks with only the utmost care and efficiency."

"Then onto the ship you both shall go," XisumaVoid smiles, offering a teasing salute in response.

The short Hermit watches as the admin disappears, a frown immediately overturning his grin. "Of all people, it _had_ to be Doc! Mumbo! You must save me from this impending doom!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Mumbo chirps, ruffling his blonde curls. "He doesn't even ask for help often, which means that you'll have plenty of free time while everyone's doing their job-Wait a second!"  


Grian laughs as the realization that the younger will have plenty of time to play pranks on everyone catches up with man's thoughts, quickly dodging Mumbo's lunge toward him.

"I swear, Grian! If I see a single chicken in my room, you better hope the Queen herself can back up your alibi!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grian and Mumbo meet up with a few more Hermits before the ship's take-off.

Grian can’t help but fall to the ground in laughter, joyous tears pricking his eyes when his mustached friend’s attempt to grab him causes the taller man to stumble over his own legs. His lungs squeak in protest at his rapidly heaving chest, the short Hermit in too good of a mood to mind the minor discomfort that his laughter brought him. 

“Need some help up, Mumbo?” he asks through his bubbles of laughter. 

“I’m fine, thank you very much,” said Hermit huffs as he sits up. He gently brushes the light brown particles of dirt off his black suit before rising to his feet to properly approach the ship. He allows his eyes to roll when his best friend still resides on the ground, obviously not done with his fit of laughter. “By Gods, Grian, it wasn’t that funny!” 

“You should’ve seen your face!” Grian exclaims, leaping to his feet to recreate the scene. “Your face immediately fell the moment you realized that you had goofed up!” 

Mumbo watches as the younger puts a foot awkwardly in front of him, his face scrunching up in sheer horror to mock the older's expression from a few moments earlier. “It caught me off guard,” he responds in hopes to defend his dignity. A sigh of defeat emits when the gremlin refuses to quit his laughter, Grian’s hand waving up to point out his now-messy hair. “Are we actually going to board the ship or are you just going to sit there giggling like a schoolgirl?” 

Grian wipes a tear from his eye, finally nodding to signify that he was done ‘giggling like a schoolgirl’. He allows a few chortles to escape his mouth as Mumbo guides the pair toward the large vehicle, his mind still delighted at how his chase had ended in his friend’s own dramatic downfall. 

He smiles to himself when he notices how relaxed his nerves felt, eyes gleaming with triumph at ridding himself of his previously sorrowful thoughts. Mumbo always managed to make him feel better, whether the Redstone genius had intended to or not. It’s a prime example of their close bond, one of them always able to brighten the other’s day as soon as they walk into the same room. 

“Oh, _wow_.” 

Grian can’t help uttering the comment, his blue eyes finally glancing upward to comprehend the size of the ship. He hadn’t been paying too much attention, too caught up with his thoughts, and messing with Mumbo. The spacecraft was massive, the short Hermit having to lay on the ground in order to see even a sliver of the curve that signifies the ship’s top. It's glossy coat of silver paint perfectly captivated the dim lighting of the Moon, the painted constellations shining despite the lack of clear light. His gaze momentarily glances toward the large cursive letters marking it the _Hermit Voyager._

He opens his mouth, turning to his best friend with his eyebrows raising in shock. “That’s...all for us?” 

“All 24 of us,” MumboJumbo confirms. 

“That’s a lot of space.” 

“You act as if you haven’t built two mansions for your personal use this season." 

Mumbo did have a point. He had indeed built two massive mansions for him to do whatever he pleased within. However, the ship isn’t permanent like his builds are. 

It had become a tradition that once the Hermits touched down on their new world, the ship would immediately be disposed of. The choice of giving it a touching ceremony as it’s left to sink under the ocean’s calm surface, or sending it straight into the Sun, had always been voted on. 

_I’m definitely voting on throwing it the most impressive funeral and goodbye rave the server has ever seen._

Grian begins to protest when he feels MumboJumbo gently grasp his arm, stopping when the man motions toward the ship’s open doors. “Save your breath for the interior. Xisuma tasked BDubs to take care of the decor, and I’m sure it’s brilliant as always.” 

The mention of BDoubleO designing the interior is all it took for the short Hermit to grow excited, beginning to yank the Redstone genius toward the doors. “Well then what are we waiting for! Let’s go, let’s go!” 

MumboJumbo chuckles to himself at Grian’s enthusiasm, swiftly picking up his pace in order to keep up with his friend’s quick footsteps. 

By Gods, has the little gremlin always been this fast? 

The tall Hermit nearly trips over himself again at the mere speed the blonde was going, having to jog in order to keep up. 

Grian finally frees Mumbo the moment the pair step onto the spaceship, the smell of disinfectant immediately burning his nose. His face scrunches up in response to it, eyes squinting to display how unpleasant the sour scent is. An accusing look is shot Mumbo’s way when he hears the man begin to laugh to himself. 

“You can’t deny how abhorred the place smells.” 

“It smells _clean_ ,” Mumbo points out with an amused smile. 

“Mhmm... _that’s_ what it smells like,” he responds sarcastically, beginning to point out the necessity of air freshening before his gaze catches sight of how clean everything looked. 

The ship’s interior holds a modern aesthetic, the floor a clean grey tile. The pure white walls and ceiling smoothly compliment the floor design; paintings cover any places that may have been considered as bare. Glass casings housing small herbs stemmed from the floor and behaved as columns linking the ceiling and floor together. The green sweetly contrasts with the two base colors in the room. 

And how could he ignore the quartz and spruce wood cabinets peeking down at the end of the hall? He gives a quick wave to signal Mumbo to follow after him, beginning his descent down the winding halls to inspect every detail in the wall. 

_Oh my, it just keeps getting better._

As soon as the short Hermit turns the corner, he’s immediately introduced to the main hangout cafe. He catches sight of a light grey rock wall, plants in quartz pots cascading down the surface. It takes him a moment to realize that water was flowing from the top of the wall, peacefully sliding down each rock’s unique edge. 

White chairs and tables lay beside the wall; Grian can already imagine himself relaxing by the soothing wall as he finishes up reports that Doc would need to hand off to XisumaVoid. 

“Looks like paradise, doesn’t it, Grian?” 

“You read my mind,” the short Hermit agrees, glancing sideways to catch FalseSymmetry’s gaze. “Are you touring around the ship as well?” 

Grian can't help but smile when the ship's Second Officer laughs softly, her luscious blonde hair swaying as she shakes her head. Her lips purse slightly, “I actually just got done touring with Stressy. We were about to explore the upper regions of the ship but Joe managed to whisk her off to Medbay.” 

“She’s on medical tasks for this season as well?” 

“Of course! She absolutely adored being able to help everyone out with their health-related problems, especially since last season she got to bug Iskall over taking breaks from his work without any protest from Impulse or Tango.” 

Grian lets out a breathless laugh, “I assume there were more than a few times that Zedaph attempted to join them.” 

“Definitely more times than just a few,” FalseSymmetry chimes. 

“Good evening, Mumbo,” she greets, the tall Hermit finally within ear-shot distance. She silently takes note of the man’s still messy hair, safely making the assumption it had been a certain little gremlin’s doing. “I assume Grian’s been up to no good again?” 

“You haven't the slightest idea,” Mumbo responds, shoulders slightly drooping forward to express his exhaustion. 

“What can I say? I’m a trouble-maker!” Grian chirps, blue eyes staring mischievously into his friend’s calming gaze. 

“I’ll say, you gave Mumbo and Iskall quite a scare when you never responded to their messages. You should’ve heard Iskall ranting to Stress about how you never answer his texts to you! If you’re not careful, you might be finding Redstone traps sprinkled around your new base.” 

The short Hermit gasps dramatically, “He wouldn’t dare!” 

FalseSymmetry nods slowly in response, “He most definitely would dare!” 

“It’s not my fault I don't always have time to respond to his ‘HALLO’s,” Grian pouts, crossing his arms to appear angry.

“Well you better find time,” the blonde woman responds with a grin, ruffling the short Hermit’s curly hair. She begins to bid the pair farewell, taking a few steps forward before turning back around. “Before I forget, can you send Stress my way if you see her? I know Joe can’t keep her busy for eternity.” 

“We’ll be sure to be on the lookout for her,” MumboJumbo agrees with a thumbs up. 

“You two are life-savers,” FalseSymmetry responds, waving a goodbye before heading deeper into the spacecraft’s labyrinth of hallways. 

Grian watches the woman disappear behind a corner, staring longingly in her direction. He could only imagine how easy the Hermit’s job was. They had never encountered another server’s ship, nor would they act with hostility if they did encounter one, so the weapons department had never really been taken too seriously. 

“Shall we continue our exciting exploration of the ship?” Mumbo asks softly. 

“Hell yeah! Pick a direction,” Grian instructs, gesturing toward the hall to their left. It appears to branch off into all three directions. 

“Hmm, proceeding right would be the most logical way to go-” 

“And straight ahead we go!” the gremlin interrupts, shooting off in said direction before his mustached companion can protest. 

MumboJumbo immediately breaks into a sprint after his friend, knowing it’s his only hope of keeping up with the short Hermit. “Gri, slow down! You’re going to slip and fall.” 

“You’re only saying that because you’re afraid that you’ll be the one falling,” Grian responds as he maneuvers through the halls. He makes a sharp turn to the right before resuming his swift pace. 

“That’s only 50% true and you know that!” 

The exclamation produces a bubbly laughter to emit from the Hermit’s chest. He turns his head slightly in an attempt to spot how far back his best friend is. He begins to turn himself the right way, terror slamming into his gut when he hears the shrill shriek of someone. Without enough time to stop himself, he proceeds to barrel into the unfortunate Hermit in front of him. 

The collision knocks him onto the ground a few feet away, his chest screaming when his breath is ripped away from his lungs.

“Stress! Grian, what on Earth was that?” 

Grian groans as Joehills’ surprised voice echoes in his ears. His vision swims when he attempts to sit up, quickly opting to remain with his back on the ground. 

It takes him a moment for the question to process in his mind, mouth opening to give a response before strong arms sweep him into tall arms. 

“Oh my-! Stress, are you alright?” 

The short Hermit winces as the chest he’s held against rumbles though he doesn’t utter any type of protest. 

“Don’t fret, love,” Stressmonster responds, eyes sparkling with confusion and delight. She presses a hand to her forehead, trying to gain her balance as she rises to her feet. “To be fair, I think Grian took a rougher tumble than me.” 

Said Hermit only responds with a soft laugh, the sound cutting short when his lungs once again hiss in disapproval. He begins to twist in Mumbo’s grasp, “I’m fine, just a little dizzy.” 

Grian weakly rolls his eyes when his friend’s green gaze only stares down at him, obviously not wishing to let him go. “Don’t be a spoon, I said I’m fine,” he insists, giving the man a soft push. He forces himself not to sway when he’s gently set on his feet, offering an apologetic look toward Stress. 

“I’m deeply sorry, Stress,” he apologizes, a fierce blush of embarrassment overcoming his features. 

“Don’t worry about it, I should’ve heard your footsteps,” Stressmonster responds with a cheerful smile. “Good thing you had Mumbo with you, Joe would’ve just left you lying on the ground!” 

Joehills only displays a half-smile, “She does have a point.” 

“He’d deserve it for being so reckless,” MumboJumbo teasingly shoots toward Grian. 

“Oh shush, don’t be daft, Mumbo,” Stress responds lovingly, letting the gremlin have extra time to collect his thoughts and regain his balance. “I’d definitely be sprinting down these halls if Joe wasn’t already loading tasks onto me.” 

“It's necessary to be prepared in case an emergency happens,” Joehills gently reminds. 

“The only emergency happening is me dying of boredom.” 

“False is looking for you, by the way,” Grian pipes up, finally able to think clearly. His vision is still a little blurry, and he’s sure that he’ll have a bump on his head, but he isn’t in need of medical assistance. 

Stressmonster laughs at the mention of False, “I’ll be sure to check in with her once I’m done with distributing the last of the First Aid kits. 

“Is it alright if I take your elytra, Grian?” 

The short Hermit tilts his head at the sudden question, having been caught off guard. It takes him a moment to register what had been asked, but he quickly hands the piece of equipment over. 

“We were going to gather everyone’s elytra and free them into space,” Joehills explains as Stressmonster neatly folds the pair of wings. “They’ll be able to float among the abyss of space together for the rest of time. Or at least until they deteriorate into nothing.” 

Grian and MumboJumbo nod at the given information, the pair sharing a curious expression. “I like the idea,” the Redstone genius inputs with a friendly smile. 

“Same,” the short Hermit agrees. 

_“_ _MumboJumbo,_ _please report to the Bridge.”_

Grian glances toward the ceiling upon hearing the soothing voice of GoodTimesWithScar. 

_He’s most likely_ _Xisuma’s_ _assistant again._

“I don’t suppose either of you know how to get to the Bridge?” Mumbo begins, scanning the never-ending tunnels the hallways form.

“I’d be more than happy to show you the way,” Joehills offers without a second of hesitation. “You can go finish up the First Aid kits while I show Mumbo the way.” 

“Do you mind if I join you guys? I’d assume that Doc would be hanging out by the Bridge and I’d like to speak with him before we take off.” 

“Of course, Gri. The more the merrier,” MumboJumbo nods. “Lead the way, Joe.” 

Grian quickly falls in line behind his best friend as the dark-haired man begins to guide them. He takes silent note of the paintings and decor they pass by, attempting to form a mental map of the ship. 

_The painting of a cactus signifies that we turn left, and the daisy means we continue straight..._

An eyebrow raises when another turn to the right displays an elegant quartz staircase.

 _How convenient!_

“Go up the second flight of stairs and continue straight ahead, it’ll open up into the Bridge,” Joehills instructs with a warm expression. 

“Thank you,” Mumbo and Grian murmur, obviously pleased with how easy it had been to navigate to the Bridge. Their guide then spins around, off to find Stressmonster, and assist her with the medical kits. 

“Guess your recklessness was beneficiary to our situation.” 

The short Hermit immediately glares up at his companion. “I wasn’t being reckless! Okay, maybe a little bit, but still!” 

“There’s no way I’m letting you live that down, especially after you oh-so-graciously laughed in my face for tripping over myself,” Mumbo retorts in a teasing tone. 

Grian leans forward in an attempt to look slightly intimidating, knowing that he’s failing miserably at that task. “Mr. MumboJumbo, you better forget about it, or else!” 

“Or else _what?_ ”

The pair leap a solid foot in the air at the sharp hiss, spinning around to stand face-to-face with Docm77. Er, chest-to-face for Grian, but that’s beside the point! The hybrid merely stares at the two with an expressionless face, using his 6'5" height to tower over the pair. His tattered coat looks neatly pressed, as if the man had just gotten it dry-cleaned but had refused to allow the holes to be sewed together. The bottom of it loosely hugs the side of his pants, a clothing item which also features small holes and rips.

“Oh, g-good evening, Doc!” Mumbo immediately greets, offering an overly enthusiastic smile in hopes that he’ll simply be dismissed to head up to the Bridge. “We thought you were hanging out in the Bridge. I was just making my way over when you interrupted us.” 

The hybrid lifts an eyebrow to complete his unimpressed look, the Redstone genius emitting a nervous laugh. The last time they spoke to each other had been when the taller was scolding the two for texting in the main group chat. “Go report to Scar, then, Mr. MumboJumbo.” 

The tall Hermit winces at the venom dripping from Doc’s voice, nodding while he turns and hurrying up the stairs without another word. He purposely ignores Grian’s silent plea for help, not wishing to get on the man’s bad-side. This was the hybrid’s typical mood, so getting on the man’s bad side wasn't an option. Not if he wants to survive the two-week trip. 

_Goddammit_ _, Mumbo!_

Grian forces himself not to childishly stomp the ground, arms folding as he glances up at the Chief Officer. He silently vows revenge on the mustached man; he can already imagine the pranks he’ll be pulling on him in his free time. “Doc," he utters softly as a greeting. 

“Grian.” 

The short Hermit breathes a sigh of relief when nothing else is said, the hybrid only beckoning him to follow him up the stairs and to the Bridge. He feels a pout overcome his face when he realizes Mumbo had hightailed it out of there, not even able to see his form in the hall they were walking through. 

“You’re aware of your position, right?” Docm77 questions, gaze fixating on the never ending tunnel ahead of them.

“Yeah, Xisuma caught me up to date on what’s going on.” 

“Good. I don’t have the time to help you with your tasks, so you better understand anything and everything I ask you to do.” 

“You don’t have time to help me?” Grian repeats in disbelief, “I’m literally your assistant. If I have questions or require clarification, I need to be able to ask-” 

Docm77 flashes him a toothy grin, "That's not my issue. Go find someone else to bother over it if you must. I have high standards, and you're either going to meet them or pay the consequences."

“...” 

“...” 

“...fine.” 

“Good. Now go catch up with Mumbo. I want everyone in their seats and prepared for take off before I get there." 

"Yes, Sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that there wasn't much action this chapter, I'm still trying to lay the foundation of the setting and each character's relation/personality. I promise that the real drama and angst will start soon. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Bridge Crew!

_Look at me, I’m Mr. High and Mighty! I get to kick back and relax while everyone scrambles to ensure everything looks nice for Xisuma. Oh? You need help? Just let me place my boots on the polished quartz and start scolding you for not knowing how to properly do something!_

Grian swallows back the bitter thought, gaze lifting from the floor’s grey tile to help him focus on anything that didn't remind him of the left side of the Chief Officer’s face. Everything about the hybrid sent chills to his spine, all the way from his piercing red-eye to how emotionless he always appears. At this point, it seems like the tall Hermit doesn’t even know how to express his emotions. 

_No, he does express emotions. It’s just through either looks of disappointment, fury, or the ‘You have five seconds to sprint before I hunt you down’ expression._

He sighs, a hand combing through his curly hair as he makes his way down the hall. He silently notes the lack of footsteps behind him, a clear indication that Doc had lost all interest in heading toward the Bridge once he had given orders to his assistant. 

Irritation gnaws at his stomach as he slows his pace. He was _not_ going to go out of his way to make sure everything was set if Doc wasn’t interested in doing his job correctly. Call him petty, but the hybrid obviously doesn’t understand that the builder has never backed down when put up against someone who tries to order him around. 

He isn’t some kind of servant for the older to dump important tasks on. He’s supposed to handle the paperwork side of Doc’s duties, not guide the Bridge crew-members through takeoff. What even made the hybrid think that putting him in charge was a good idea? He’s notorious for both pulling pranks and creating a chaotic setting. 

Grian’s mind immediately flutters toward the idea of pranking the higher-ranking officer, mischief flooding his gaze. Perhaps letting a few chickens or cows loose in his room would do the trick. A bucket of water placed to fall as soon as his head hits the pillow would be a good idea as well... 

Sure, he might get scolded and put on cleaning the bathrooms for the next two weeks, but it’d be worth it in his opinion. It'd be a dream come true to prank the stuck-up hybrid and not pay with his life. 

The skin under the gremlin’s eyes crinkles slightly as his lip pulls up to display his signature smile. The growing voices stemming from the Bridge only encourage him to offer an even bigger smile, his mischievous plans momentarily set aside in order to appear innocent and prepared to start their everlasting trip to Season 8. 

Grian suddenly slams to a halt as he nears the doorway to the Bridge; he takes a moment to fix his hair and tidy his sweater. He quickly checks for any loose strings, feeling satisfied when he finds nothing out of place. 

Mumbo had always scolded him for looking like he just woke up in the morning during serious events or meetings, so he needed to look at least a fraction of descent for his crew. 

_“First impressions are important!”_

Grian castes a glance sideways as he recalls Mumbo’s words merely a day earlier. He isn’t sure who’s going to be working in the Bridge, fingers crossing in hopes that he’s received nobody stubborn or too difficult. Placing two stubborn Hermits within the same work-place for two weeks would be begging for chaos to ensue. 

_If the incident with Doc and_ _BDubs_ _says anything..._

The short Hermit can’t help but snort at the reminder of that incident. The poor designer had been verbally torn to shreds after accidentally spilling coffee over Doc’s reports. The yelling-match went on for more than an hour, the fight mostly made up of Doc calling BDoubleO something in German. 

If his memory serves him correctly, the three phrases used the most had been, ‘sohn einer hündin’, ‘flachwichser’ and, ‘du fickfehler’. BDub's hadn't even been able to tell what was being screamed at him, but Mumbo had immediately rose from his seat and walked out of the Bridge with a bright red face. 

Doc was placed on close-watch after that incident, Scar himself taking the liberty of ensuring the hybrid wasn’t taking out his frustrations verbally on other Hermits. 

The tangent hadn’t affected BDoubleO too much, though the man was definitely shaken up over being yelled at for so long. 

_Which means that I, unfortunately, don’t get to work with_ _BDubs._

Grian begins to slouch at the fact that he won’t be able to speak regularly with the calming man. It had always been hilarious to mess with him, especially during the times when he refused to let the other go to sleep. 

_Please tell me_ _Xisuma_ _put us with someone who’s a pro at relieving tension._

Without another thought, he straightens his shoulders and walks into the room, eager to find out who he would be working with. 

“What’s up, G-Man!” 

_Xisuma_ _, you’re a_ god. 

Grian immediately feels himself relax at Ren’s voice, feeling as if all weight had suddenly been lifted off of his shoulders. Ren’s a natural at keeping the atmosphere cheerful and bright, which would be an outstanding contrast to Doc’s impatient personality. 

“Ren!” he heaves a relieved sigh, allowing his shoulders to roll forward to show how thankful he is to see the Hermit. 

“Did you really miss me that much, dude? We literally talked yesterday!” Rendog laughs, a knee bending to tilt his stance. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Grian responds with a grin. 

“Let me take a wild guess here. You ran into Doc on your way up here?” the man asks with a smile, taking off his sunglasses to stare directly into the short Hermit’s bright blue gaze. 

Grian can only nod, glancing toward the large desk and chair to the right of them. The enormous furniture only proves his suspicions that the spot was for Doc to settle into. “How could you tell?” 

“Dude, you literally walked into this room with perfect posture. Something was clearly up,” Ren teasingly points out, gesturing to how the gremlin had let his shoulders relax as soon as the conversation began. “Not to mention that Mumbo bolted for Scar as soon as he came in.” 

The Bridge Assistant could already imagine how pale his friend must’ve looked to the other crew members. Unfortunately, Doc had always possessed the ability to make even the most composed of the Hermits grow nervous. 

And that includes someone like MumboJumbo. 

“Yeah, Doc caught up to us by the stairwell and sent Mumbo off to report to Scar. He seemed to be in a slightly better mood than usual if I’m being honest,” Grian admits, shrugging. 

Rendog falls silent for a few seconds, leaning forward to glance down each hallway and confirm that the Chief Officer’s nowhere near them. 

“If Doc being in a good mood was enough to have Mumbo sprinting, then I don’t want to see him in a bad mood, dude.” 

“I’m going to have to agree with you on that one,” Grian hums, finally taking the time to scan the room of familiar faces. 

_Mumbo, Scar, Wels, Beef, TFC, and...Hypno?_

“Hey, Ren?” 

“What’s up?” 

“Is Scar apart of our crew or is he assisting Xisuma once again?” 

Rendog takes a moment to scan the room, almost as if he had forgotten who his crew mates were. “He should be assisting X this flight. I expected him to put Keralis in that position, but he sent him off to vehicle engineering.” 

Grian pauses at the given information, curious over XisumaVoid’s decision. Keralis and Xisuma clearly had history together, relating all the way back to some of the first seasons of Hermitcraft. Maybe their leader had been trying to avoid the claim of ‘favoritism’ within the ship. 

_He most likely wants someone who can get the ZIT team to focus on their tasks down in engineering._

“As of now, we’ve got Wels as our combat pilot-” 

A glance sideways gives him a glimpse of the knight’s shining metal armor. The shine flickers occasionally to signify a button lighting up, the man obviously trying to prepare the systems to destroy any stray asteroids they may encounter. He looks proud to be in such a position, lost in making sure everything looks perfect. 

Grian can’t blame him. Welsknight had spent last season’s flight handling the typical ‘chores’ of the ship. Even the short Hermit would be ecstatic to be a combat pilot if that was his position last flight. _Anything_ is better than being a steward. 

“-TFC on relief pilot duty-” 

Grian laughs softly to himself when he catches sight of the napping man. His chair’s back is tilted slightly to enable the eldest Hermit to properly lean back and catch some sleep. 

“-Beef handles navigation-” 

As if on cue, the bearded Hermit looks up, offering a wave toward the pair. The shorter immediately returns the motion before he can focus back on the enormous map spread out in front of him. He appears rather relaxed for someone who the Hermits are depending upon to not get lost in the void of space. 

“-Mumbo’s communication. As always.” 

Grian snickers at the fake bitterness in Ren’s voice, the man having made a face. “I’m sure you’ll get to show the universe who ‘Ren Diggity-Dog' is at some point.” 

“I don’t know, man. Mumbo’s been stealing my spotlight for nearly three seasons now! 

“And finally, we have Hypno. He’s the one who can help with any tasks that require a third or fourth hand.” 

“Mr. Adaptable,” he concludes, earning a short chuckle from Ren. 

“Exactly. Other than Doc, that’s everyone. It’s a bit of a tight crew, but I'd be glad that I’m not trapped down in engineering. Redstone’s way too tricky for me to even look at if you ask me.” 

Grian can confidently agree with that statement, “Tell me about it. Every time I need to do some Redstone work, I get either Mumbo or Iskall to give me an hour-long lesson on it. 

“I can safely say that Redstone is not for me,” he chirps. “I don’t even know how they do it.” 

“It’s witch-craft, I’m telling you,” Ren insists with a grin. His gaze suddenly lifts from Grian’s shining eyes to glance around, looking as if someone had just called his name.

The short Hermit tilts his head, “Something wrong, Ren?” 

Said man shakes his head, “I could’ve sworn that- Aha!” 

Ren’s blue eyes flood with triumph when he pinpoints his target, a hand grabbing Grian and dragging the younger with him as he walks. 

The shorter can’t help but yelp in surprise at the quick movement. He forces his legs to walk deeper into the room, suddenly feeling a lot like Mumbo had when they were touring the ship a few moments earlier. 

“Ren? Where are we-?” 

“You were looking for Grian, Scar?” 

Grian immediately straightens up at Ren’s greeting, gently pulling away from his friend’s grasp. He smiles at one of the only Hermits he doesn’t need to tilt his chin up to look at, finding affection filling the Admin Assistant's dark green gaze. “Hey, Scar.” 

“Yes, thank you, Ren. I hope I didn’t interrupt a meaningful conversation,” Scar chimes. 

“Oh, not at all!” the short Hermit quickly exclaims. 

“Ouch, dude. You hit me right in my heart,” Rendog pipes up with a dramatic wince, clutching his heart. 

Grian’s cheeks immediately begin to burn, “I didn’t mean it like that!” he promises. Oh god, did Ren think that he hadn’t been enjoying the conversation? The relaxed Hermit truly is an amazing person to hang out with-! 

He opens his mouth to begin complimenting the older before their laughter forces him to focus on the situation. It takes him a moment to realize that they were laughing at him, embarrassment ripping through his body. 

_I’d like to be swallowed up by a black hole right about now._

Grian’s miserable thought is interrupted by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He begins to brush it off as Mumbo’s before a quick glance signals that the tall Hermit’s nowhere to be found. 

“Don’t sweat it, G-Man. I was just messing with you,” Ren chuckles, patting his friend’s back. “Is that all you need, Scar?” 

“Uh, I believe so! Thanks again, Ren,” Scar dismisses, momentarily linking an arm with Grian’s while the taller turns away to head back to his station. “Don’t worry, Grian. I’m just going to steal you for a second before we take off. 

“So? How are you liking the ship?” 

“It’s massive!” he responds without missing a beat. The fresh memory of the ship’s grand scale is enough to make his jaw begin to slack. “Not to mention that the interior looks amazing. I heard BDub’s was the one tasked with tackling this huge project.” 

“He described the task as a Christmas present,” Scar exclaims, gesturing toward the hallway. “He spared absolutely no expense. It took forever to get him to take a break and eat something.” 

“He’s really outdone himself,” Grian praises. “I would’ve loved to have worked with him for these two weeks, but it seems Xisuma has some other plans.” 

Scar shifts slightly at that, the movement just barely catching the gremlin’s eyes. “Yeah...I was discussing what position would be best for him a few days ago and Xisuma said that it’d be a good idea to give him a break from stressful tasks.” 

“I think he deserves a break after helping to make this brilliant ship,” he agrees. 

“I couldn’t agree with you more.” 

The pair allow silence to develop between them, simply standing in front of each other. Grian silently notes how cloudy the ex-mayor’s gaze appears, his green eyes darting back and forth along the ground. He appears to be debating something in his head, the short Hermit not daring to interrupt his thought process. 

“Hey, Grian?” 

“Yeah, Scar?” 

“Can you keep an eye on Doc for me?” 

Grian pauses at Scar’s request, a question forming on his lips. He’s silent for a few moments, unsure how to respond to a question like that. Is the Executive Admin Assistant that concerned that the Chief Officer will go off on someone once again? He knows that Doc's a pain, had the man already done something to make the ex-mayor suspicious of him? 

“Of course. Just as long as you promise that you'll bail me out of a few pranks,” he winks, blue eyes shining with mischief to lighten the mood. 

Grian hears the older laugh, unable to help but notice how hollow it sounds. He gently guides Scar closer, offering a hug. “The flight’s going to go fine if that’s what you’re concerned about.” 

He smiles when the other returns his hug. “Thanks, Grian. I’m sure it’s just pre-flight jitters. Once we take off, I should start to feel better.” 

“If you need anything, I’m always here.” 

“The same goes for you as well. If Doc starts to get impatient, just come find me. He might be second in command, but I have priority when it comes to talking with Xisuma.” 

_Well, that’s...comforting? I’d hate to involve X, though. I can’t imagine how stressful it is to set up the new world’s command controls and work out all the bugs in under two weeks._

Grian shakes his head at the idea of having such a recent deadline. Two weeks seems like plenty of time until the Hermit realizes how flawless the code has to be unless they want everything to fall apart. 

_Thanks for taking one for the team._

“We’re set for take-off in T-3 minutes,” Scar announces to the entire room, watching the crew begin to make their final preparations for the flight. He extends a hand toward Grian, offering a genuine smile. “Good luck, Mr. Bridge Admin Assistant.” 

“Oh please, Mr. Bridge Admin Assistant was my father,” the short Hermit jokes, shaking the ex-mayor's hand. 

Without another word, Scar turns his back to Grian in order to begin his stroll out of the room. His journey is interrupted halfway through by Doc’s smirking figure. He’s successful in leering over the ex-mayor, having nearly a foot over the Executive Admin Assistant. 

The short Hermit watches as they utter a few words to each other, leaning backward to see if he can see Scar’s expression. He sighs when he’s unsuccessful, only able to watch the hybrid’s facial ques. The conversation between the two doesn’t last long, the smirk quickly disappearing off of Doc and being replaced with a small frown. 

“I’ll see you at five till 10:00 then.” 

Grian’s eyebrow lifts at the only sentence he’s able to catch, Doc having said it a tad too loud. Scar simply waves in dismissal in response, not giving time for the hybrid to protest before he disappears out of the room. 

“Doc.” he calls once the hybrid is within ear-shot. Consider him nosy, but he’s curious as to what was going to go down at 9:55. 

“Take a seat, Grian,” said Hermit mutters without stopping his path to his enormous desk.

 _Okay, then. I guess I’ll find out later then._

Grian nearly leaps when a red alarm suddenly begins to blare within the room, a few other Hermits jumping in surprise as well.

“To your stations, everyone!” Docm77 barks without a moment of hesitation, piercing gaze scanning the room. 

The gremlin watches as everyone clicks their seatbelt together at their corresponding station. He even catches a glimpse of Mumbo already clipped into his desk’s seat. He gives a thumbs-up toward his best friend, laughing softly when the motion is repeated back to him. He then slips on a headset that connects him with everyone on the ship, listening to the soft crackling emitting from the item. 

“Are we prepared for take-off?” XisumaVoid’s voice questions. 

“Yes, Sir,” the pair responds in unison. 

“Then we are in the clear,” the Admin finishes, the short Hermit able to hear the satisfaction lacing his voice. “Take off in T-Minus six-” 

Grian slightly tenses at the sound of the engines beginning to rumble in excitement.

“-five-" 

The main three engines’ roar rings throughout the halls, effectively causing the short Hermit’s ears to yell in protest. 

“-four-” 

_I’m fine, this is fine. If it wasn’t fine,_ _Xisuma_ _would stop this immediately._

“-three-” 

_This is going smoothly. Just like last season. Everything sounds right and nobody’s yelling about an issue._

“-two-” 

_Just close your eyes...relax..._

_“-one!”_

Grian’s eyes clench shut at Xisuma’s excited exclamation, his feet slamming against the purring ground as he feels the weight of gravity forced upon himself. He can’t help but nervously smile while his eyes instinctively tear up in response to the pressure. He makes a glance to his left, watching the ocean begin to shrink outside the smaller window

Despite the alarming amount of gravity pressing against him, he finds himself grow calm. His heart swells with glee at the sight of their loving world, his brain using memories to sedate his anxious state. 

_Goodbye, Season 7. May every season be as peaceful and joyous as yours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys! I've been distracted with school, but my excitement to continue this fan-fiction has been giving me motivation to finish all my homework assignments.  
> Just as a heads up, next few chapters might take a little longer to write, but two will, without a doubt, be posted by next week! Buckle your seat belts, because it's going to be quite the ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grian's finally free to explore the ship by himself while the rest of the Bridge Crew focuses on steering the ship. He stumbles upon some friendly company while he explores.

Grian's finally tears his gaze from the shrinking planet, briefly glancing toward Ren’s concentrated expression as the tall man steers the ship. He feels the pressure release its grip on him, leaving him to loosen his anxious grasp on his seatbelt's fabric. He subconsciously heaves a long sigh of relief, gasping air into his lungs to ensure that the ship’s oxygen filters are doing their proper jobs. 

The air feels slightly stale, but it doesn’t bother the short Hermit in the slightest. Besides, how can he complain about the air quality when in exchange he gets to gawk at the gorgeous scene before him? 

He feels his jaw unlatch at the sight the spotless main window displays in front of him, the black abyss twinkling with never-ending handfuls of stars. He gazes upon it with endless awe, mind unable to wrap around how large the universe truly is. It shows how insignificant he and the other Hermits are when compared to the grand scheme of things. 

_I already feel short around the others. This is definitely putting a damper on my ego._

Grian pushes aside the joking thought to focus solely on the view. God, would he kill to see a scene like this every time he wakes up. The idea of being lost in the vacuum of space is immediately abandoned in favor of watching the mesmerizing maze of stars. He’d pay hundreds of thousands of diamonds to see this even for just a day once they reach Season 8. 

_Enjoy this while it lasts. Like_ _Xisuma_ _said, it’s going to be a while before I have the chance to go on a trip like this again._

Grian snorts at the thought of a decade and a half being considered ‘a while’. Almost two weeks ago their Admin had announced that he’d be extending the time they spend on the new planet. It’d most definitely be difficult to suddenly drop the memories of watching giant planets pass them as they glide through the void. He’ll just have to resettle on watching Season 8’s Sun fall behind the ocean. 

Or maybe it’d fall behind rocky cliffs, depending upon the terrain they stumble upon. 

“Take-off was a success,” XisumaVoid announces through the headset, a round of cheers ringing throughout the ship in response. The loud noise brings a smile to Grian’s lips, relieved that everything had gone on without a hitch. 

“Everyone may now take off their headsets and walk around. Impulse, make sure to take Zedaph and Tango to confirm that everything’s reading normally. The Bridge Crew should remain within their designated area until Ren gives the okay that he won’t be needing assistance. For everyone else, feel free to retire to your rooms or explore the ship. These two weeks are sure to pass by us in a flash!” 

Grian waits for the Admin to stop talking before taking off his headset. He laughs to himself when he catches sight of how shaky his hands are, placing the object on his desk before unclipping his seatbelt. He stretches out his legs immediately, rising to his feet to test out the gravity the ship holds to it. 

One footstep signifies that it feels just as if he was back on Season 7, the ship seeming to have its own gravitational pull for the Hermits to use in order to walk properly. He gives a small jump, completely unaware of the puzzled expressions he was being thrown. His feet hit the ground as they usually would, not single ounce of hesitation delaying the action. 

Two footsteps to the left confirm that everything is completely identical to the gravity on Season 7’s world. 

_Hopefully the mechanism giving us gravity doesn’t fail like last season’s trip did._

_You know, everything seemed to of been off last trip..._

_No, don’t think about it. These next two weeks are going to be filled with pure joy and peaceful relaxation._

He takes a deep breath as he forces himself to forget the previously dreadful flight. He needs to focus on the current task at hand. What’s his task again-? 

“Are you still frolicking around the room or shall we discuss paperwork?” Doc interrupts, watching the short Hermit with an emotionless expression. 

Grian can’t help but make a face at the idea of paperwork. He knows it’s a necessity to ensure that any mistakes or mishaps are taken care of immediately, but it’s such a boring thing to do when there’s an entire ship to explore. He gives a quick nod to acknowledge that he’s listening to the hybrid’s words. 

Said Hermit heaves a sigh, a finger pressing against his furrowed eyebrows. Not even a minute into space and the man already looks as if the gremlin had told him that every engine powering the ship had fallen into space. Or perhaps the movement had simply been to cover up a small grin in response to his face. 

Doc doesn’t give him time to see if he had been grinning, a frown evident on his facial features as he offers the Hermit a small stack of papers. “I’ll fill out the first couple pages of the report, things that have to do with what times the engine was started, the exact time we felt the rush of gravity, etcetera, etcetera. Your job is to write down other Hermits’ opinions on how take-off went and answer a few more questions at the bottom. 

“Now, regarding addressing other Hermits. You have a higher ranking than anyone else on the Bridge Crew; with the exception of me, of course-” 

And that’s where the hybrid loses Grian, not interested in the slightest over how to ‘properly speak with other Hermits’. He’s spent two full seasons with these people for crying out loud! He’s simply going to interact with them exactly how he’s talked with them during those seasons. 

Which may involve a few eggs getting thrown about, but that isn’t the point! 

He keeps an interested expression on his face as his mind wonders, wanting to take the time to recall his plans to prank Doc. 

_The bucket of water is a must..._

The short Hermit can already imagine the older stumbling out of his room with water damping his typically fluffy black hair. His furious gaze would be replaced with bewilderment and shock, his cheeks slightly tinted pink in embarrassment for having fallen for such a trap. 

He’d immediately get yelled at for something like that. Arguably, the best part would be that Doc definitely wouldn’t take the time to dry his face or hair before dragging and chewing him out for pulling such a stunt. He’d get to watch the hybrid deal with soaked hair during the scream-match. 

“Got all that, Grian?” 

Said Hermit immediately nods convincingly, giving a witty salute. He quickly grabs the papers that are being offered to him. “You can count on me to get those accounts.” 

“Great, just remember that you can talk with people outside the Bridge Crew as well. If Xisuma asks whether Ren gave the clear to let you leave or not, just tell him that I sent you to check on the other Hermits.” 

_Thank_ god. _I desperately need to explore the rest of this place and get my bearings before everyone else can. How else am I supposed to be able to pull off a successful_ _prank?_

“You’re dismissed, then-” 

Doc stumbles back when Grian immediately lunges for the doorway, heart dropping in his chest at the sudden movement. He extends a hand to catch the younger’s arm, a yell escaping his lips when he only grasps air. A low growl rumbles in his throat as he returns to his desk, muttering to himself over how utterly irresponsible the gremlin is. 

Said Hermit knows that his swift exit had pissed off the Chief Officer, a grin on his face as he races down the halls. His black shoes tap rhythmically on the grey flooring, an almost metal clang bouncing from wall to wall. 

His pace quickly slows to a walking speed as he recalls quite literally running into Stress earlier; he definitely doesn’t want to accidentally slam into someone yet again. He isn’t quite sure he’ll be able to recover from yet another crash. 

_Ah, where to first? Left? Right? Right, left? Left, right?_

Grian laughs to himself at the play on words, joy bubbling inside him at being able to enjoy the ship without any sort of distractions. Don’t get him wrong, he loves exploring places with the other Hermits, but his planned pranks are for his mind only. Telling someone about them or inspecting certain rooms would completely ruin the element of surprise. 

He carefully bends the paperwork in his grasp so it can fit within his sweater’s pocket, carefully sliding it in before placing his hands in the pocket as well. He hums softly to himself, a couple ‘ooo’s escaping his lips every time a painting or comfy furniture catches his gaze. 

The gremlin barely pays attention to where his feet are guiding him, every decision over which direction he should turn decided randomly with little to no thought. He watches as he passes by doors, a pair marked ‘Restrooms’ and another pair of doors marked ‘Storage Closets’. 

One even marks the stairwell to go a floor higher- 

Grian glances around to ensure nobody was around, a hand immediately moving from his pocket to thrust the door open. He quickly slips inside the well-lit room with a nod of appreciation when it doesn’t demand a key. His other hand withdraws from his pocket as well, being used to grip the railing as he jogs up each stair. 

His morbid curiosity flourishes in the mysterious stairwell hidden by a door. Er, it isn’t necessarily hidden, but it doesn’t have an open archway like the entrance to the main stairwell does. 

The short Hermit finds himself slightly out of breath after climbing the stairs, quickly composing himself and focusing on his surroundings. A soft yell of triumph emits as he catches sight of a golden plaque with a Hermit’s name engraved on it laying carefully on a dark oak door. A glance toward another door confirms that it seems like he’s stumbled upon the hallways that lead to each Hermit’s room. A few doors are slanted inwards, bits of light emitting from the crack. 

Grian feels his shoulders slouch in a comfortable way to help sell his casual state. The opened doors could signify someone’s presence inside them, which meant that he needed to look as if he isn’t plotting exactly where to execute his first prank. 

The clank of his shoes hitting the floor morph into light taps as he weaves around slightly opened doors. He’s sure to carefully slip past a door marked ‘ZombieCleo’, able to hear soft snores originating from the room. 

Hadn’t he planned to take a nap once he got on board the ship? 

_I mean, it’s not a bad idea, per se. Just means that I’ll probably be awake while everyone else is asleep later. The perfect time to set up a prank near the café or near a bathroom._

Grian pauses when he stumbles upon a door with his own name engraved on it. He hesitates as he debates whether to open it or not, unable to tell if he’d be able to drag himself out of the room if it looked nice. He quickly turns the handle and pushes the door inward, taking a few steps into the dark room before closing the dark oak item behind him. 

He can’t help but wince slightly at the blaring lights catching his bright blue gaze, his eyes having been trying to adjust to the darkness. He blinks away the green spots dotting his vision in order to get a better look at his room. 

It’s...spacious. It follows the modern look of the rest of the ship, though the walls were a light grey with the floors being white. A quartz desk with a grey wooden chair sits in the furthermost corner, directly across from his bed. The sheets look plump and unused; he can practically hear the piece of furniture begging him to take a nap on it. To snuggle into the sheets and be lulled by the gentle sway of the ship moving through space... 

_Focus!_

Grian snaps his gaze away from the bed, forcing himself to take a look at the paintings covering the wall. Pangs of disappointment momentarily course through him when he doesn’t see a single window in his room. To be honest, he isn’t sure if another Hermit got the luxury of a window, though he doubted it. If it accidently broke, the vacuum of space would make quick work of them. 

He feels a shudder run through his spine at the idea of permanently dying to the void of space. There’s no chance of being saved last minute, the sheer lack of temperature and lack of air would give the unfortunate soul a rather quick and panic-filled death. 

He silently pleads for his mind to shut up over the idea of someone’s demise. The ship is the safest place they have right now. Xisuma and the others have full confidence that the flight will go smoothly, so he should have that confidence as well. 

_So why don’t I feel that way?_

Grian forces himself to abandon his room, starting to feel claustrophobic over the idea of Death closing its grip around a Hermit. Once out of the room, his lungs hiss in demand for air, the Hermit not having realized that he had been holding his breath. He takes a few quick breaths, a hand swiping nonexistent dust off of his shoulder. 

He begins to turn and continue down the hall, not having been able to catch sight of a door labeled as ‘Docs’. He saw XisumaVoid’s door a while back, which means that the Chief Officer’s rooms shouldn’t be placed in another designated area. 

_No way in hell_ _BDub’s_ _would give him a room in an entirely different area._

His search for the hybrid’s door is momentarily forgotten about when a door creaks open about three doorways down. He instinctively prepares to tell the Hermit of how Doc sent him to check up on everything, the words on the tip of his tongue as the person walks into the hallway. 

“I- 

“Hypno?” 

Said Hermit leaps a solid foot in the air at his voice, face flushing pink as he spins to face Grian. “Oh, I didn’t expect to see you here, Gri,” he nervously laughs, a hand moving to scratch the back of his head. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here either,” the short Hermit grins. The other looks just like a deer in headlights, eyes still wide in surprise and small bits of shame sparking in his gaze. “Here to stir up some trouble as well? I didn’t plan to let anyone in on my plans, but I’m having a hard time locating Doc’s room.” 

Hypnotizd takes a moment to register what's being inferred, appearing as if he’s considering what response would have the most favorable outcome. A few blinks later and he lets out a short laugh. “It’s the door at the end of the hall that’s unmarked. 

“BDubs put his plaque on a supply closet’s door,” he explains after noticing the younger’s puzzled expression. 

“Drats, I was hoping to prank him first,” Grian sighs, voice thick with disappointment. 

The Hermit lifts an eyebrow at his statement, shaking his head. “You’re aware of the consequences that come with pranking Doc, right? 

“I thought you had a firsthand example with the whole ‘Civil War’ shenanigan you caused.” 

The gremlin smirks at the reminder. To be fair, Hypno has a point. That war had actually made him fear for his life at times. Most of the Hermits were too scared of permanently killing each other for there to be real conflict. Key word, ‘ _Most’._

Doc had been absolutely ruthless toward the G-Team, doing everything in his ability to make his team’s opponent surrender. And that included a few close-calls with Death’s grasp. 

“Of course,” Grian responds nearly nonchalantly. He’s thought of that war for so long that it doesn’t affect him as much as it used to. God, he remembers how miserable those nightmares were. “I won’t be destroying any bushes, though. Just a bucket of water over his door or a few smashed eggs on the ground. Nothing that can’t be cleaned up.” 

Hypnotizd grimaces at the idea of dealing with the hybrid’s reaction to such a prank. “If you’re going to be working with Doc for the next two weeks, I suggest staying on his good side. I don’t think his revenge will be as harmless as your prank. Who knows what that guy dreams about at night.” 

The pair shudder in unison at the thought, the short Hermit making a face while the older utters a playful ‘yeesh’. 

“Playing a prank on him after this first week may work out in your favor,” Hypno suggests with an innocent smile. “You might be able to successfully pin the blame on someone else if you play your cards right and remain out of trouble for this first week,” he winks. 

“It just sounds like you’re trying to keep me away from pulling pranks for at least half the trip!” Grian exclaims. Someone like him staying out of trouble for at least a week? That’d be even more suspicious than pulling a prank on every Hermit on the ship. 

The older Hermit shrugs, putting his hands up innocently. “Believe what you will,” he grins. “You can always make the flight to Season 9 the truly chaotic flight.” 

He can’t help but snort in response. “There’s no way I’ll be able to wait 15 years when I currently have an opportunity like this,” he points out. 

Grian suspiciously glances down each hall, a finger pointing upwards to try and look teasingly intimidating toward the taller. “By the way, this conversation never happened.” 

“I won’t tell if you don’t rat me out to 'You Know Who’ for ditching the crew,” Hypno offers, extending a hand for the younger to shake. 

The short Hermit gladly takes his hand. “Consider it a deal. 

“How’d you sneak out anyway? I would’ve thought that Doc would keep a tight leash on everyone,” Grian offhandedly asks, generally curious as to how he had slipped away from the hybrid so quickly. 

The Hermit only shakes his head and wags a finger. “Maaaaagic,” he draws out with a giant grin. “You can’t really expect me to reveal my secrets just yet. It’s only day one!” 

Grian stifles a laughter at that. “True, though I do believe I revealed my secret prank to you. It’d only be fair for you to-” 

“Woah, woah, woah! I never said you _had_ to tell me about your prank. You just did it without asking for anything in return,” Hypno counters before the other can come up with a strong argument. “I should really be going before Ren notices I’m gone. You think that it’s Doc you have to watch out for, but in all honesty, Ren gets cranky when he flies.” 

“I would too. I mean, he controls whether we get to Season 8 or not. If my technical assistant slipped away, I’d be a little more than stressed as well.” 

The Hermit flashes a charming smile toward Grian before waving his goodbye and starting his stroll back to the Bridge. “It was fun talking with you, Gri. I look forward to working with the Bridge Crew with you.” 

“Same goes for you,” the gremlin chirps before Hypno’s shoulders can disappear around the corner. He notes how quietly the other steps through the halls, the man practically tip-toeing around each door. It’s almost hilarious how they act as if getting caught disobeying Xisuma’s orders will result in a harsh punishment. 

To be honest, the worst thing that could happen would be having to prepare the Admin’s tea. The man’s notorious for always having a cup of tea beside him; not to mention that he’ll drink just about any cup of tea for the hell of it. 

But when it came to being a form of ‘punishment’, the man could decide to be extremely picky with what flavors he wants. It’s not too bad at first, but the repetition of constantly making new cups of tea is enough to bore any Hermit to death. 

Grian feels a yawn escape his mouth at the idea of constantly making tea, eyes glancing toward the end of the hallway. Maybe Hypno has a point over not pranking Doc so soon. He would indeed be trapped working with the man for the rest of the flight. Technically speaking, the hybrid could reassign him to be the ship’s steward if he truly felt like it. 

A prank would without a doubt trigger a change from Bridge Admin Assistant to some kind of awful job. 

_There go my plans for the rest of the day._

Grian begins to hum to himself as he debates whether to actually go ask the other Hermits on their thoughts over take-off. He’d typically lunge at the opportunity to interact with other people, but talking about the ship engines would all be mechanical terms. Nothing interesting would come up. 

He feels his eyelids gently pull at his eyes, instinctively yawning yet again. A nap surely sounds better than doing paperwork. Interviewing others could all be taken care of later. For now, he just needs to rest his eyes and recollect his thoughts. 

The short Hermit barely registers his feet are moving as he stumbles toward his room, suddenly feeling exhausted. He crashes onto his once untouched bed, snuggling deep into the comfy blankets and bedsheets. 

The packet of papers crinkles softly in protest, Grian verbally hushing it so he can get some proper sleep. 

_Hermits later, sleep now._

With a final sigh of comfort, he finally submits to the darkness that had been gently pawing at his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the kudos! It honestly makes my day when I open this and see that people have been enjoying the story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF DEATH AND GORE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
> 
> Grian's awoken by a shriek of horror and despair. He rushes down to check it out with Mumbo and stumbles upon something he wishes he hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF DEATH AND GORE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
> 
> Enjoy :D

**_“WHAT THE FUCK?!”_ **

Grian jolts up from his pillow at the loud shriek of horror, the sound painfully ringing throughout his ears. His joints stiffen in protest at the sharp movement, a hand rubbing tiredly at his eyes. 

He shoots a concerned glance toward the closed door, brain attempting to shove away the fog of sleep in order to focus on what he had just heard. His panicked gaze quickly sweeps the darkroom for anything that could help him gain his bearings. He waves his arm to activate the room’s motion sensors, a hiss escaping his lips at the bright light blinding his vision. 

_Something’s wrong._

The short Hermit discards the bed’s covers before stumbling out of the comfy piece of furniture, ignoring the green stars dotting his vision. A hand blindly reaches out, thankfully connecting with one of the room’s walls which he uses to steady himself. 

After properly righting himself, he opens the door and slips out. He feels a lump begin to form in his throat in worry over what the shriek is about. Nobody on the server has ever made a noise like that. It sounded like it was filled with pain and anguish, the voice cracking halfway through. 

He chooses to ignore the other Hermits beginning to poke their head out of their room, the others unsure whether to investigate the sound or not. However, their hesitance doesn’t discourage the short Hermit in the slightest. His sole purpose as of now is getting to wherever the sound had originated from. It had been painfully loud, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d assume that whatever had gone down had happened right below his room. 

Grian can feel his legs drag even as he attempts to quicken his pace down the hall. It seems as if he’s been jogging for minutes, despite it only having been a couple seconds since he got out of his room. 

_What time is it?_

He feels his mind wander at the sudden question, a yawn escaping his lips as he places one foot in front of the other. The movement appears rather robotic; his eyebrows furrow slightly with confusion in response. The action seems to require more effort than usual to execute. 

_That’s not...right._

_Time. What’s the time?_

The short Hermit growls impatiently at the question pounding in his brain. He hadn’t been asleep for long, right? It surely feels as if he’d only gotten a blink of sleep.

Surely it had only been a 30-minute nap.

Grian glances toward the spaces of wall in-between each door, searching desperately for a clock. He feels his panic over the original shriek begin to turn its attention to finding out what time it is. Why can’t he find a clock? There should be clocks lining these halls- 

He nearly leaps out of his skin when a firm grip grasps his shoulder, wrenching away from the Hermit. The sheer voice of yanking himself away causes him to stumble; he groans when his tailbone hits to floor hard. His surprised blue gaze quickly calms when he gazes upon the dark outline of MumboJumbo’s mustache. “You scared me, Mumbo,” he whispers, unable to find himself speaking louder. 

“Sorry about that one,” the taller Hermit's voice sounds restrained, his raven-black hair puffed up and uncombed. His eyes are slightly wider than usual; his chest rises and falls quickly as his dark green eyes search Grian to ensure that his best friend hadn’t been the one to yell. “Are you alright? I heard-” 

“I’m fine,” he interrupts in a hushed tone, his lips pursed tightly to keep him from tiring himself out from breathing quickly. He doesn’t give the other time to keep up, getting to his feet, and returning to jogging toward the staircase almost immediately. He hears the Redstone genius’s exhausted footsteps trail behind him as they move. 

“Time, Mumbo,” Grian asks rather harshly. 

“Pardon?” 

“What’s the time?” 

“Uh, Gri? We’re in space. We don’t really keep track of time,” Mumbo swiftly responds, a hand flinging out to grasp the staircase’s railing as they descend the stairs. “The only proper clocks would be in one of the main rooms or Xisuma’s quarters.” 

The short Hermit nearly smacks himself at the realization that they don’t have a natural way to track time. Their ship doesn’t have a Sun encircling it for the clock to base itself off of. The only clocks that could do such a thing most likely are with Xisuma or hanging up in a common area as Mumbo had said. He opens his mouth to apologize for being so short-tempered over it only to clamp it shut when a wail of despair emits from outside the stairwell’s room. 

The pair share a frightened glance before shoving open the stairwell’s door, breaking into a sprint down the hall. 

“-No, no, no, this can’t be happening. This, I-” 

A choked sob echoes from the hall to their left. 

Grian barely misses running into the wall as he makes a sharp turn to follow the sound, blue eyes attempting to adjust in the dim lighting of the hall. He can see the shadows of someone crouching over the ground; something lays seemingly only a few inches from the original figure. 

“S-stay, _please_ , please-!”

His heart aches at the high-pitched cry, recognizing the voice to belong to Keralis. A pit of dread forms in the shorter Hermit’s chest, the man’s pained sobs only making the pit sink deeper. What on Earth could have the sweet builder sounding so broken on the floor? 

“Keralis! What happened-?” 

Grian’s breathless and panicked question falls upon deaf ears as the metallic and horrid smell of blood fills his nose, eyes widening at the scene before them. That black and grey outfit looks too familiar for his liking- 

_“HYPNO!”_

Streaks of bright red scatter the ground around the trio as if a child had used the liquid to finger-paint a messy drawing, a few droplets sprinkled on the side of the once white walls. The pool of blood around the body’s exposed flesh holds a slightly runnier and pinkish appearance, the victim’s beads of sweat having diluted both the color and the thickness of the red substance. Clothing from the unfortunate soul is soaked to the brim with red liquid; the black and grey jacket continues to dampen as it sinks in on the body from the sheer weight of the bodily fluids. Blood mockingly smiles from a slim gold plate that was once a part of the victim’s fashion style. 

Holes from stab wounds litter the Hermit’s legs, both legs split cleanly open down the middle. The deep cut enables a clear view of the body’s femur; part of the bone protrudes through the skin at an awkward angle, almost as if it had been snapped before the skin was mercilessly torn to shreds. 

A glance slightly to the left displays two pairs of shoes neatly sitting beside the victim’s broken femur, the feet having been severed from their natural placement. Part of the fibula sticks out of the pair of bloodied shoes; the murderer had chosen not to sever through the joint that connects the foot to the fibula, having hacked away at the closest bone instead. Red tauntingly stains the exposed bone almost as if to spit the fact that such a deed would be painful to experience right in the trio's faces.

As their gaze worked its way up the victim, more stab wounds became evident on the figure’s torso. One deep gash exposes an intestine of the deceased Hermit, the pink organ lying motionless on top of its owner. Severed fingers sit beside the organ on the floor; the small body parts are nearly glossed over, having blended in with the sheer amount of blood splattered on the ground. Everything else regarding the arms had been left untouched. 

Almost as if the murderer pitied him for chopping off his fingers. 

Bruises lined the Hermit’s chest to create a horrific painting out of the designs. Parts of the rib cage had been twisted, a few ribs sticking painfully out of the chest. Surprisingly, the ribs are pure white despite being surrounded by puddles blood. Nobody wants to think about how the murderer accomplished such a thing. 

Blood leaked from a clean slit in the Hypno’s throat, his head laying on its left cheek in response to not being able to hold itself up. The poor Hermit’s jaw slacks, the bottom of the chin dipping slightly into his neck’s bloodied slit. 

Grian dares himself to glance up at his face, feeling hot tears already rush down his face at the sight. 

Oh, how he regrets that decision. 

Three clean cuts lie vertically across his right cheek, the flesh gaping open like the gills of a fish and exposing part of the Hermit's back teeth. His tongue flops through one of the slits in an awkward position; the murderer would’ve had to of placed the tongue in such a way since Hypno’s muscle wouldn't have the strength to do such a thing. The Hermit’s face is frozen in a contorted position of pain; his right eye is slightly popped out of place, resting on the bridge of his nose. A dried stream of salty tears lines the side of Hypno’s face with- 

Grian suddenly collapses to the ground, feeling exhausted at the discovery. His palms hit the ground right as he lets out a gut-wrenching scream that reverberates through the halls.   
His hand extends to clutch the body tightly, the limb quickly snatched away once the smell of death descends upon him. 

He retches. 

MumboJumbo immediately slides to the ground, yanking the pair away from the corpse and into a hug despite the shortest Hermit having just puked. He needs to comfort them. It’s the only thing that’ll take his mind off of the bloodied corpse of someone apart of his family. 

“Wh-wh-why h-h-hIM?” Keralis howls in despair, planting his face firmly into the mustache man’s shoulder. He grabs a fistful of the man’s shirt, sobbing and clawing desperately at the fabric. He begins to thrash when the taller soothingly runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t need comfort! He needs to bring the bastard who did this to justice. He needs to avenge the loving Hermit! 

Mumbo softly murmurs to the two in his grasp despite hot tears dragging down the sides of his own cheeks. He feels himself start to gag in memory over how Hypno’s face was cut, forcing his lunch back down to his stomach. “You’re safe, we’re all safe. This is just a bad dream, a bad dream is all it is,” he whispers tightly, clenching his eyes shut as he hugs the pair. He feels Grian’s shoulders seize up, the shorter beginning to wail in despair like Keralis had. 

“Just a bad dream,” he repeats. His heart pounds rapidly within his chest in hopes that the scene is just a dream. They’ll all wake up on board the ship and ready to start a new day that involves hanging out with Hypnotizd. 

Grian trembles uncontrollably in his best friend’s grasp, clinging to both him and Keralis as if his life depends on it. His body isn’t sure how to respond to the situation, conflicted with trying to decipher whether this is reality or not. 

“Mu-mbo,” his voice breaks in half in the middle of saying the Hermit’s name, stuffing his face in Mumbo’s arm. He clutches the limb tightly, scared that the mustached man will pull away at some point. 

MumboJumbo quickly brings a hand to wipe away the tears pouring down their cheeks, not bothering to wipe his own away. “Hush, hush, hush,” he shushes gently, wincing as his own voice cracks in sorrow. His head immediately snaps up when he hears two pairs of feet dash toward them, growing protective over the Hermits currently in his care. He begins to scoot them away from the body, heart twisting when Grian turns and begins to try and claw his way back to the corpse. The sudden burst of emotion makes him slightly jump in surprise. 

_“NO-! LET ME GO! HYPNO-!”_

Grian bawls when he isn’t listened to, starting to fight against Mumbo like Keralis had been doing for the last few seconds.

“PLEASE! Please...” 

“Mumbo, what the hell is going on here!” 

Said Hermit slumps in relief at the Admin’s shocked voice, recognizing the Hermit beside him as Joehills. A hand moves to shakily gesture toward Hypno’s mutilated corpse. He winces at the audible gasp from both of them, the pair rushing forward to inspect the state of the body. 

“Sh-Shishwammy! H-H-Hypno-!"

Said Hermit immediately loses interest in examining the body when Keralis sobs his name. He rushes to comfort his friend, falling beside the trio and embracing them all in a hug despite his shoulders quaking with fear and uncertainty. “I’m here, Keralis. We’re all here, nothing bad is going to happen,” he insists, pushing his forehead to the other’s. 

XisumaVoid winces when Mumbo immediately falls apart at his words. The taller man’s shoulders sag as he leans on the Admin, beginning to hiccup from swallowing all his tears. “Relax, Mumbo. Breathe in... breathe out. It’s okay...” 

Grian can hear the lies slip cleanly out of the Hermit’s lips. Xisuma understands that everything is not okay and won't be for a while; the uncertainty and grief lacing his voice completely ruins any comfort that could’ve been offered to the younger. 

The answer appears to be good enough for the other two, however. They leave Joehills to silently examine the body, a glance making it clear that the Hermit’s welcome to join their comforting embrace whenever he wants to. 

XisumaVoid lifts his head when he hears more footsteps cautiously approach, the other Hermits having finally come down to see what the commotion’s over. His shoulders jolt when he hears a few knees hit the floor, recognizing Cubfan135 kneeling on the ground. He feels Grian flinch when the bearded man bangs his fists against the floor in anguish. 

“Is that-?” 

“It-no. It-it can't be-” 

Joehills immediately places his hands up when a few Hermits attempt to get a closer look at the body, throwing open a nearby closet door and fishing out a white bed sheet. “Have you all no respect for the deceased?” he hisses, lips tightly pressed together to help with keeping himself composed. He cautiously places the white cloth over Hypno’s body, wincing when blood immediately begins to coat the item. 

“Xisuma.” 

Said Hermit carefully breaks away from Mumbo, Grian, and Keralis at Cubfan’s aggressive yet sorrowful voice. His voice sounds hollow, and he can hear the other swallow thickly. 

“I want to-” the bearded Hermit pauses, gaze locked on the white sheet laying on top of Hypno’s body. “I _demand_ to know who’s done this. They deserve to be punished for this.” 

XisumaVoid numbly nods, rising from his seat on the floor. “Believe me, I demand to know as well,” he growls softly, gaze searching through the crowd of Hermits in an attempt to pick out anyone looking too calm over the situation. 

It doesn't take long for him to realize that everyone's in hysterics, a few hugging and cradling each other like Mumbo had done to Grian and Keralis. His heart pounds in his head at the idea of being on the spacecraft with something capable of murdering a Hermit. 

_Or some_ one.

“Is he really dead?” BDoubleO steps forward to address the Admin, eyes wide with fear. His chest only tightens when he’s given a nod. 

XisumaVoid then clears his throat, looking over the crowd with a distressed gaze. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he softly begins, choking back a loud sob. “I’ve failed you as your Admin. I’m supposed to keep you all safe from harm, and fix problems.” 

The silence following his statement is almost suffocating. 

“As of now, there is something-" 

“Or someone,” a bitter voice softly interrupts. 

“-that is capable of doing such a horrific deed on this ship. Everyone is to stay in groups of no less than two. If suspicious behavior is spotted, you are to report it directly to me. Whatever or whoever has caused this will be caught and dealt with accordingly. 

“Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, Sir,” the group announces in hoarse voices. 

“You all are dismissed to your rooms unless you have any information regarding Hypno’s activities during the last three hours. 

“Please try and find someone to bunk with,” Xisuma pleads, pressing his hand into his helmet in hopes that it’ll keep him from falling apart in front of the group. He needs to think rationally in this type of situation. To be the voice reason during this disturbing discovery. 

He watches the others begin to trudge their way back to their sleeping quarters, leaving behind puddles of tears as a trail. He notices MumboJumbo collect Grian in his grasp, Keralis politely and quietly refusing to be carried up. 

The look of horror and despair lurking in both of their gazes breaks the Admin’s heart. He doesn’t mind the fact that Joehills and Keralis had stayed behind, patiently waiting for the Redstone genius and short Hermit to disappear around a corner. 

By Gods, he can’t do this. 

XisumaVoid slides to the floor to finally wallow in his misery, a hand ripping off his helmet and throwing it to the wall. He flinches when the action results in a loud bang from the opposing wall; the grey item then begins to spin on its side, becoming as still as Hypno’s body within the span of a couple seconds. 

His arms cross, his face burying into them in an attempt to hide his gaze from the horrific scene. This is all his fault; he should’ve kept track of the Hermits better. He should’ve known about their whereabouts at all times and ensure their safety. 

_I’ve failed them._

As if on cue, he feels the body heat of Keralis sidle beside him in an attempt to give comfort to the taller. He glances sideways to catch sight of his best friend’s puffy eyes and bright red face, immediately offering his arms for the other. There’s no hesitance from the wide-eyed Hermit, the man leaning into the offered arms with a muffled sob. 

“Keralis,” XisumaVoid hums his friend’s voice, lips quivering as the word slips from his mouth. “We're going to stop whatever's done this,” he vows softly. A hand moves to soothingly mess with the other’s dark brown hair, the figure beside him beginning to relax in his grasp. He rests his chin on top of his best friend’s head while his fingers twirl the strands of hair expertly. 

His shoulders begin to jerk as tears once again gloss over his eyes. His head tilts backward, hitting the wall with a soft thud. He silently notes Keralis clutching him tighter, the man still not having said a word apart from calling his name earlier. The motion is slightly comforting; his best friend has enough faith in him to seek shelter in his affectionate embrace. 

The halls then fall silent as he closes his eyes; the only audible sounds are the hiccups and disturbed coughs emitting from Keralis and Xisuma. The pair nearly forget Joehill’s presence, the Admin flinching when he opens his eyes to find the man’s sorrowful gaze in front of him. 

“Anything out of the ordinary?” the Admin nearly chokes on his words. 

Joe nods, tears cascading down his rather emotionless face. “Hypno, he-” 

The man pauses, pressing his fingers to his eyebrows. “He was on his way to grab a snack from the café. I passed by him merely an hour ago and struck up a conversation. He sounded so...excited for the next season. And to find out that we’ve lost him-” his voice stops mid-sentence, the usually composed Hermit unable to help himself. The deceased Hermit had sounded so hopeful when they spoke earlier that night. 

Silence once again develops between the trio for what seems like ages. 

“There’s a murderer on this ship, Xisuma.” 

Keralis flinches at the hushed statement, feeling the Admin’s grip on him tighten. The pair don’t want to think about it, but they know that the man’s right.

“There’s no way a machine could’ve done something like this. The cuts look both clean and sloppy, like the murderer improvised certain wounds. Not to mention that there’s no kind of machinery around here. We need to get to the bottom of this before someone else gets hurt or worse,” Joehills points out softly. He frowns when the Admin begins to stand up, having carefully withdrawn from Keralis.

“Xisuma, stop,” he orders. He grasps the other’s wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. He knows exactly what Xisuma’s planning to do. “You cannot shut yourself off from us. You need to sleep before we can begin to fix this, _together_. Take Keralis and head upstairs with the others.” 

_“Please.”_

XisumaVoid’s gaze softens at the composed Hermit’s plead. He glances down at Keralis’s grief-filled eyes staring at the opposite wall in fear. “Okay,” he caves, bending down to help his best friend stand up. “Will you be fine or would you like to join us?” 

Joehills finally offers a sad smile. “I think I’ll go bunk with Cleo.” 

The Admin nods as he helps Keralis to his feet. “I know this is a stupid question to ask, but are you alright, Keralis?” 

Said Hermit shakes his head in response, a hand clutching around his best friend’s arm. “I-I don't want to lose anyone else," he whimpers.

“I don't either,” Xisuma sighs softly. “We’ll figure this out, Keralis. I promise.” 

_I will_ not _fail this server again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! 5 chapters in and we finally have our first victim! Poor Hypno.
> 
> Before I get comments asking about how they weren't alerted to the murderer from a death message, their communicators (AKA chat) are all broken since the code for it gets destroyed once the ship takes off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grian seeks comfort from his best friend, Mumbo.

Grian fidgets nervously as MumboJumbo ascends the staircase with the shorter tightly held in his grasp. The air feels tense and stale as they make their way closer to everyone’s quarters; his lungs shudder and shake in protest with every breath he takes. His attempt to blink back his tears is proven unsuccessful when his vision suddenly blurs.

Hoping to distract himself from the waves of grief rolling over him, his brain chooses to fixate on the constant pace his best friend has set as takes each step. He can feel every shaky breath the other takes, choosing to draw invisible patterns on his chest in an effort to distract both of them from what they had just experienced. 

He glances upward, wide gaze searching Mumbo’s. He’s not actually sure what he’s looking for; perhaps he’s selfishly trying to get himself lost in the Hermit’s familiar green gaze. 

His best friend only looks forward with a distant look in his eyes, uncertainty and fear evident in his features. His shoulders look tense and prepared to spring into action if something attempts to attack them. 

_Or someone._

The idea of a murderer being loose among the group of Hermits doesn’t serve a single slice of comfort to either person. 

Confusion overtakes Grian’s expression at the thought; his eyebrows knit together as he attempts to piece together what could’ve gone wrong. He’s known these people for two seasons, and never once has someone displayed such rage or aggression expressed by the condition of Hypno’s body. Dancing with Death was rarely something a Hermit did; it was to be respected and feared on the server. One slip up could result in the loss of an adored Hermit, a risk they simply couldn’t afford to take. 

The past wars with everyone may have had a few close calls, but the reason nothing had turned deadly was because the Hermits would immediately recognize their mistake and correct it. That, as well as the fact that they all carried a shit ton of health potions with them. 

_Come to think of it, Doc took the Civil War a bit too far at certain times. False caused some commotion as well._

The short Hermit frowns at the idea of the kind blonde Hermit being capable of murdering someone so brutally. She’s known for being one of the best PVP players on the server, even though most times it appeared as if she couldn’t bring herself to hurt a fly. 

To his knowledge, the worst thing False has done to someone is breaking a bone by accident. Even then she spent the entire time apologizing profusely and offering an abundance of potions to help with the healing process. 

On the other hand, Doc doesn’t have the best record when it comes to dealing with Hermits the hybrid deems ‘annoying’. He’s nearly blown up more than a few server members ever since Grian got to Hermitcraft, and he can only imagine what he could’ve done in the seasons before the short Hermit. He can distinctly recall Tango going off on the German after nearly blowing up both him and Zedaph up in a failed Redstone contraption. 

Not to mention Doc’s response to Keralis rejoining the server in Season 6. The sweet builder had been locked away in Area77 for about a week as a warm ‘welcome to the server’. To say that XisumaVoid had been pissed would be putting it lightly. 

Grian shifts slightly when he feels himself grow uncomfortable at the idea of being locked away from his friends for a week. 

_Not able to see_ _Xisuma_ _or_ _Iskall_ _or_ _MumboorRenorStressor_ _-_

He freezes when Mumbo’s eyes snap down to focus on him, having felt the short Hermit’s chest begin to rise and fall rapidly. Concern frantically darts in his dark green gaze, worried that he had done something wrong. 

Guilt engulfs the shorter at accidentally alarming his friend, a shaky hand reassuringly smoothing the man's suit to show that it hadn’t been the other’s fault. 

_But Mumbo_ is _here. I can see him, I can hug him, I can prank him, I can-_

Grian’s silent attempt to compose himself is interrupted when Mumbo's steps finally stop, gently setting the other on his feet as he reaches to open his room’s door. His glossy blue gaze briefly glances over the door’s golden plaque reading ‘MumboJumbo’ as the pair enters the space. 

The room isn’t much different than the gremlin’s. The only thing eye-catching appears to be the style of paintings hanging on the walls, as well as the Redstone components laying peacefully on the once-white desk. The red powder seems to have stained the polished quartz, creating a grid-like pattern. 

The sight of red staining the white surface reminds him of the blood splattered on the wall, the recollection forcing bile to rise in his throat. 

“We can switch to your room if you’d like.” 

Mumbo’s soft voice echoing beside his ear startles the short Hermit, the man stumbling back in surprise. He quickly brushes his unease away, straightening his posture. The other must’ve caught him staring sickeningly at the Redstone on his desk. 

“No!” Grian exclaims, fear swiping through his brain at the idea of walking back out and into the hall. Embarrassment swiftly overtakes his panic-filled gaze when he realizes how loud he had yelled. “Er-no. It’s okay,” he mumbles in a softer tone. 

His shoulders relax when he receives a small smile in response, the taller not having minded how loud his first announcement had been. The Redstone genius gestures toward the bed, a hand pulling the sheets back. “You can have the bed,” he offers, grasping one of the pillows and blankets and setting them on the floor. He begins to take a seat, pausing when Grian’s hand gently grasps his wrist. 

Mumbo glances up to meet his best friend’s wide gaze, fear and anxiety swimming in the other’s blue eyes. 

“Could you please sleep beside me? I-In the bed?” 

The mustached man’s heart flutters, his gaze immediately softening at the request. The gremlin could easily be compared to a scared animal, his fingers fidgeting nervously and watching the ground as he awaits a response. To be honest, it slightly angers him to see the usually upbeat Hermit in such a panicked state. 

Grian stays in place as silence engulfs the pair. It’s nerve-wracking, and he can feel tears brimming his eyes at the lack of response. “I-It’s okay, you don’t have to. I’m sorry, it was a stupid question anyway-” 

He yelps when the taller suddenly sweeps him up, unable to find the strength to fight against the bone-crushing hug. He quickly returns the action, shoving away his thoughts of the position being slightly awkward. 

“You don’t have to apologize, Gri. I’d be more than happy to,” Mumbo reassures with a polite smile. He doesn’t let his best friend escape his grasp, turning around before launching the two of them back onto the bed. He feels his heart swell with glee when he hears the gremlin laugh from the action. 

It sounds slightly off from his typical laugh, a hiccup mixed with a sob interrupting the sweet sound. It causes his smile to immediately drop, confusion stirring inside him when his best friend breaks down in tears. He allows the shorter to pull away slightly, not wanting to accidentally make it worse. 

“Grian?” Mumbo asks worriedly, his voice soft with concern. Seeing Hypno’s body had traumatized the taller Hermit; the experience must be taking a huge toll on the other as well. After all, just hearing about Python’s death had triggered his best friend to lock himself away for the week. He watches as said Hermit buries himself deeper into the pillow; his heart twists in two at seeing someone in this state of grief. 

He carefully shuffles closer to the retreating man, dark green gaze scanning the blonde curls that bounce with each sob and hiccup. “That’s it, let it out,” he murmurs, a hand reaching out to rub soothing circles against his back. He frowns sorrowfully as Grian scoots farther from the taller once again. 

“You can’t hide away from me forever,” Mumbo gently teases as he begins to move the other closer to him. He hesitates when the gremlin shifts, a troubled look entering his gaze at the idea that he’s prying the sobbing Hermit too much. 

He knows his want to cuddle with someone is a selfish desire; the action is the only way he knows how to cope. He doesn’t quite feel better after a devastating event if he hasn’t helped another in the slightest. 

The Redstone genius feels himself deflate when the other scoots away for a third time. A hushed sigh escapes his lips as he leans back into his pillow. The silence that forms between the two is deafening; Grian’s sobs still gently rock the bed though they turn silent. Almost as if the shorter is attempting to calm himself by suppressing his want to break down. 

“D-do you believe Xisuma?” 

MumboJumbo’s head lifts at the question, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. “About what?” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully as to not accidentally upset the other. 

“About how n-nothing else is going to happen.” Grian sounds almost as if he’s scared to talk above a whisper. 

Silence jabs at the tall Hermit’s thoughts, demanding a quick response be uttered back. 

Mumbo can hear himself swallow loudly. “I-I do believe him. Do you?” 

“No.” 

The immediate response causes Mumbo’s heart to drop. He can hear the drops of bitterness that trace the other’s tone. “X isn’t going to let us down, Grian,” he states with an encouraging expression. “You know that he won’t stop until the thing that did this is caught.” 

“B-but-” 

“Someone willing to murder a Hermit in cold-blood like that doesn’t deserve the title of being a player,” Mumbo winces at how cold his own voice sounds, despite completely agreeing with his own statement. A Hermit willing to take another’s life is no Hermit in his eyes. “Now come here, I’m getting lonely.” 

Grian emits a muffled laugh, the sound still sorrowful. 

_Better than nothing._

MumboJumbo feels himself relax when the other crawls over to him, settling right beside him. He casts an arm protectively around the shorter, humming contently when both of them still. “Sweet dreams, Gri. I bet X is formulating a plan on how to deal with this as we speak.” 

_Either that, or he’s losing his mind like the rest of us._

\--------------------------------------------------------------- 

Grian's dampened eyes flutter open when the sound of footsteps outside filters through his ears. He slowly but surely comes to his senses, finding himself tightly curled up against Mumbo’s chest. He’s unable to stop himself from snuggling closer to the repetitive movement of the taller man’s lungs expanding and contracting peacefully. The position radiates heat to the shorter, something that he’s always adored waking up to. 

_It’s been so long since the last time we cuddled._

He feels a phantom pain suddenly tear through his chest, lunging upwards at the reminder that they only do such a thing when something upsets one of them. He yelps when he’s then yanked against the soft texture of the mattress, the weight of a human being on top of him beginning to crush him. 

Panic floods his exhausted senses as the action forces the breath from his lungs; a scream attempts to escape his cracked lips to notify anyone nearby that he’s being suffocated. His sore throat doesn't hesitate to muffle the sound into an alarmed whine. 

Grian can only fall limp as dread and despair fills him. 

_This is how I die. I'm going to be fucking murdered. My corpse will be left to be found by the others, and_ _Iskall_ _will throw a huge fit, and Mumbo will-_

Hope flutters within his chest when he hears the door slam open, panicked footsteps stumbling into the room. “You’re crushing him, Bumbo!” 

The frantic voice of Keralis rings throughout his mind, the weight of presumably Mumbo immediately disappearing and enabling him to scramble out of bed. He throws himself onto the ground, choking back tears as he gasps for the feeling of the spacecraft’s stale oxygen. 

He feels his lungs silently cry out in glee at being able to gulp down buckets of air. He uses a hand to steady himself as he hovers over the ground, his other hand clutching at his red hoodie. 

“Oh, dear-Grian! Please tell me you’re alright!” 

Said Hermit lifts his gaze to find Xisuma kneeling beside him with a concerned expression. He opens his mouth to respond to the question, too busy trying to calm his racing heart to speak. 

“Oh Gods, did I hurt him?” MumboJumbo’s panicked words filter through the short Hermit’s ears as well, making him wince in response. “I-I thought someone was trying to attack him!” 

“I’m fine,” Grian forces out, his voice hoarse from sobbing the ‘night’ before. He finally makes an attempt to rise to his feet, feeling Xisuma gently grasp his arms to help him up. He shoots a thankful glance the other’s way, eyes lifting to meet the tiresome gaze of the Admin; the man’s blue gaze remains slightly tinted by the purple-stained glass of his helmet. 

He awkwardly casts a glance sideways when he realizes the three pairs of eyes scanning him to ensure there isn’t a sign of injury present. It causes his skin to heat up slightly from embarrassment. “Seriously, I’m okay. Mumbo just caught me off guard,” he mumbles with a tired laugh. 

“I-I-” MumboJumbo can’t help but fidget guiltily with his fingers, unsure how to apologize to his best friend. The expectant yet weary glances he earns from Xisuma and Keralis don’t help with calming his nervous jitters either. “When you jolted awake, I thought someone had grabbed you so I tried to weigh you down bythrowingmyselfontopofyouand-” 

“Quit being such a spoon,” Grian interjects with a kind expression. His once pounding heart simply pats at his chest as he looks upon the other Hermit with a saddened but relieved smile. 

Mumbo had been attempting to protect him. 

His heart melts at the simple thought of his best friend willing to take devastating blows in order to protect him. 

“I’d thank you for the kind gesture, but my lungs aren’t too happy with you squeezing the life out of them,” Grian winks, ears picking up the sound of Keralis quietly giggling a couple paces to his right. He moves closer toward the apologetic-looking Hermit, offering a teasing smile as a sign that there aren’t any harsh feelings over it. 

“Ah, sorry about that,” Mumbo responds with hints of shame dotting his voice. He carefully shuffles out of bed, a hand swiping over his messy hair in an attempt to tame it. 

XisumaVoid softly clears his voice before Grian can tease the other once again. As much as he adores seeing the mustached man red-faced and apologetic, he has some important matters to attend to. “Apologies for interrupting you both,” he begins, “But I was curious as to if you two would like to accompany Keralis and I to announce a meeting.” 

“It’s important,” the sweet builder chimes in, his usually upbeat tone and smile strained slightly. Purple lines lightly trace beneath his gaze to display his exhaustion, his eyes look slightly puffy as well.

The Admin nods, “We discussed a plan earlier over how to-” 

A few beats of silence fill the air between the four Hermits as he attempts to contain his composure. 

“-how to bring the criminal to justice. We decided that it’d be best to gather everyone and inquire over each Hermit’s whereabouts. It’ll call the person responsible for this out in public and we won’t be able to lose them.” 

Mumbo and Grian share a glance after hearing the intended plan, a silent conversation beginning to be discussed. 

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” a relieved smile displays itself on Mumbo’s face. “If everyone’s aware of who to look out for, there’s no way they’ll be able to catch someone else off guard.” 

“What if this Hermit has a good poker-face?” Grian asks, concern and fatigue tracing his usually optimistic voice. 

Keralis takes a small step forward to signal that he’s willing to answer the given question. “Don’t worry, Brian. We’ll be watching everyone very carefully. If nobody looks suspicious, then it’ll already cancel out the Hermits who aren’t too good at lying.” 

The short Hermit nods, though his expression voices doubt in the strategy. His troubled gaze glances sideways when he feels Xisuma pat his shoulder reassuringly. 

“Trust me, it won’t be difficult,” the Admin insists gently. “Killing someone isn’t exactly an easy thing to do. Someone can’t just murder another and recover from that within a few hours. It’s something that’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” 

Grian watches Keralis squeeze Xisuma’s hand comfortingly while he speaks, the short Hermit choosing not to question their leader on how he knows of such a thing. Perhaps he’ll ask about it later. 

“We're in,” the short Hermit declares with a forced grin to lighten the mood. 

Keralis clasps his hands together joyfully. “That’s lovely, isn’t it, Sashwammy?” his voice pitches upwards slightly in hopes to gain the Admin’s attention faster. 

The trick appears to work, said Hermit immediately refocusing on them. “Indeed, it is. Shall we head toward the Bridge, then?” 

“After you,” MumboJumbo nods with a gesture toward the room’s door. 

“Thank you, Bumbo,” Keralis finds an enthusiastic smile lining his face as he and Xisuma stroll into the hallway. Their footsteps turn light as to not awake any Hermits that may be attempting to get a few more blinks of sleep in. 

The other pair files out of the room a bit slower, their pace slacking as to enable each other to have their own conversations. 

Grian steps carefully, eyes focusing on every door they pass. He can feel himself grow slightly nervous at the idea that a murderer could be sleeping soundly behind one. A half-opened door captures his wide blue gaze, light shining from the object to signify that the inhabitants are awake. 

He considerably slows his pace, not minding the questioning glance he receives from Mumbo. The Redstone genius speeds up slightly to enable the other to get a better look at whatever it is he’s interested in. 

“G-Goddamnit...” 

Grian lifts his head at the shaky voice stemming from the open-door room, instantly recognizing it as Etho’s. His mind can't help but flicker back to Xisuma’s words of how the murderer would instantly recognize their mistake and regret the decision to kill Hypno. 

He hesitates when he hears more shuffling from the room, the white-haired Hermit’s frame coming into view. He's seated on the floor, face buried in his hands. The man’s shoulders seem to shake; bits of skin on his hands shimmer in the room’s lighting. 

The short Hermit leans back in an attempt to see if he can catch the other’s facial expression, jumping out of his skin when a figure suddenly slides in front of the man. A few blinks and he can successfully identify the other Hermit as VintageBeef. The man crouches to the ground, cupping the Etho’s face gently as he offers encouraging and comforting phrases. 

Shame burns in his chest as he looks away, quickly moving to catch up with Mumbo. Etho had clearly just been grieving over the loss of a Hermit; it definitely isn’t his place to eavesdrop on others and decipher whether they’re innocent or not. In fact, if someone had spied on him during a time like this, he’d most likely be furious. 

Grian instantly yanks himself from his thoughts when he feels Mumbo bump his shoulder with the utmost care. 

“Don’t drag yourself down for being curious,” the tall Hermit murmurs as if he could read the other’s mind, making sure to keep his voice low as to not attract anyone else’s attention. 

He sighs in response, hunching slightly. “I know, I just-I had no right to eavesdrop on them.” 

“Gri, the fact that you’ve recognized your mistake is enough. I’m sure Etho would’ve done the same if he was in your situation,” Mumbo states with a reassuring smile. “Everyone’s on edge, and nobody knows who can be trusted or not. If you glancing into a room with an open door ends up leading to us finding them faster, it’ll be appreciated." 

The short Hermit nods at his best friend’s words; the pings of guilt slowly begin to dissipate as if they had never been there in the first place. Mumbo’s always been great at reassuring him, and he did have a good point that doing such a thing could’ve helped them solve this devastating mystery. 

Grian carefully makes his way down the stairs with his best friend beside him, hands using the railing to ensure that he doesn’t fall flat on his face. He silently notes how rigid Mumbo’s motions become as they enter the hall, hearing the other swallow thickly. 

His gaze lifts to find the taller with a rather forced smile on his face, an eyebrow raising and about to ask about it. The question is instantly discarded when he catches sight of a black wall blocking off one of the halls. 

_The hall Hypno died in._

He quickens his pace when he realizes Keralis and Xisuma are standing in front of the blockade, looking at it with a sorrowful expression. He watches as Keralis bends down, the sweet builder placing a bright purple flower on the ground in front of it. 

The four Hermits gaze at the flower in a respectful moment of silence, Xisuma pressing his forehead to the wall with a hushed sigh. 

“Are we going to hold a memorial for him soon?” Grian asks softly, a little scared to interrupt the quiet atmosphere with his words. 

“Of course,” Xisuma responds without a beat of hesitation. “Though I think it’d be best that we focus on finding the culprit. Personally, I don’t think I’d appreciate that person attending my funeral.” 

Mumbo hums in agreement over the idea. “Right. Protect everyone first, grieve later.” 

_Mumbo’s trying to distract himself._

Grian startles himself at the sudden appearance of the thought. It would explain his ability to stay a version of upbeat as they talk about such a dark topic... 

“X, did you say you wanted everyone gathered at the Bridge?” Mumbo asks as they resume their walk toward the desired destination. 

“Yes, unless you think that there’d be a better place.” 

“I could’ve sworn Bubbles mentioned how he created a meeting room,” Keralis pipes up, “Everyone will have a seat so they don’t have to stand for however long the meeting will take.” 

Xisuma gives a firm nod, “Then it’s decided. You can take Grian to the Bridge to make the announcement before coming to join us at the meeting room.” 

“Which is...?” 

“Right down this hall,” Keralis inputs, gesturing toward the hall to their left. The group stops momentarily to bid each other adieu as they go their separate ways, “You both know how to reach the Bridge from here, right?” 

The two nod, waving goodbye to the other Hermits.

“Make sure to stick together!” Xisuma calls from the opposite hall, Mumbo responding with a, "Got it!"

The walk to the Bridge doesn’t seem to take much time, the doorway appearing not long into their silent stroll. Grian leaves Mumbo to walk toward the intercom’s microphone, the short Hermit deciding to glance over everyone’s work stations instead. 

Every desk looks cleared of papers with the exception of his own, but that's to be expected. After all, Doc isn’t someone who enjoys handling much paperwork. 

The fact that the hybrid had done half of the first stack of papers had honestly surprised him. 

Grian chooses to focus on the large window in the front, trying his hardest to find peace in the bright shine of the stars. His muscles tense when something toward the left of him moves, a sideways glance confirming that Mumbo’s fumbling with the microphone’s settings to his right. The hairs on the back of his neck rise in alarm over the idea of someone else being in the room. 

His lips quiver as they part, uncertain as to whether speaking would be a good idea. “H-hello?” he calls out softly, silently praying that there won’t be a verbal response from his question. 

The Bridge only answers with silence, Mumbo not having caught his best friend’s voice as he attempts to fix the machine. 

_It was nothing. Probably just one of my papers that got pushed on the ground by the ship’s draft._

Grian swallows painfully, attempting to convince himself that the thought had been correct. Him and Mumbo are the only Hermits present in the Bridge, everyone else had to of retired to their rooms. 

_So why do I feel as if I’m being watched?_

The short Hermit immediately makes a dash for Mumbo’s desk, sliding up to it in an attempt to look normal. His best friend doesn’t seem to mind it, a soft curse escaping his lips when a push of the button doesn’t turn the microphone on. 

“Uh, is something wrong?” Grian questions with a frown, forcing his voice not to shake. 

“The blasted microphone isn’t functioning properly,” the other responds with a puzzled expression. He picks the object up and gives it a small shake, “It seems as if-Aha!” 

The short Hermit forces himself to smile at the Redstone genius’s triumphant voice. “Finally get the stubborn thing to work?” 

Mumbo nods enthusiastically, brushing off nonexistent dirt from his suit. 

His friend looks _way_ too excited over getting it to work properly. 

“I guess one of the wires just needed a little bit of jostling, but it should be working now,” he explains as he motions toward the button. The man takes a moment to calm himself down, mulling over what tone he’d like to display to the other Hermits. 

“ _Attention, Hermits! Please make your way toward the Meeting Room as soon as possible._ _Xisuma_ _has some important announcements to make. Remember to remain in pairs as you make your way there.”_

Grian finds himself leaning closer at the calming voice emitting from his best friend. The tone is gentle and warming, comfort lacing each syllable. His voice lacks a sorrowful edge, the emotion seeming to of been dropped entirely from his mind as he addresses the whole ship. It almost sounds as if he’s coaxing a scared animal out of its cage. 

It’s...relaxing, successfully taking his mind off of the feeling of being watched. 

He waits for the red button to turn off before nodding toward the other. “You never cease to amaze me with how comforting you can sound.” 

“What can I say? It’s a gift,” Mumbo laughs softly, and Grian can detect the return of hints of sorrow. “Are you ready to regroup with X and Keralis? I don’t think they’d appreciate it if everyone else got to the meeting room before us.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, Mr. Jumbo.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support! It always makes my day when I go to post another chapter and I see how many people have seen or liked this story.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hermits gather for a nice and friendly discussion over Hypno's murder.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Just a few swears, nothing too serious  
> Mentions of a minor character's death

“How long do you think the meeting will be?” 

“Hmm,” Mumbo taps his finger against his chin as he ponders the question. “I’d give it an hour at most. There's no way Xisuma can sugarcoat this.” 

Grian emits a soft hum in agreement with his best friend’s point. It was a common sight to see their Admin defusing situations as quickly as possible, ensuring that both parties are satisfied and guilt-free by the end of the discussion. Although those types of issues related to small arguments, like being one diamond short when paying for something, or accidentally stealing someone’s shulker box. 

It’d be extremely concerning if Xisuma treated this as a simple misunderstanding. 

The short Hermit finds his hands lowering and slipping into his pocket, wincing when he feels the rough slice of paper dig into his right hand’s skin. He quickly brings the cut hand to his face in order to analyze it. 

How can such a minuscule injury make his skin feel as if it’s on fire? 

“What’d you do this time?” Mumbo asks with amusement seeping into his concerned voice. He can’t see any blood, so whatever the blonde Hermit did must’ve not been too major. 

Grian quickly tucks his hand into his pocket once again, this time avoiding the curled-up papers. “Nothing,” he responds with an even tone. He doesn’t need the other fussing over a simple papercut. Besides, it’d cause quite the commotion if Mumbo demanded to see it and find a Band-Aid for him. 

He rolls his eyes at the idea of his best friend overreacting to such a small injury. It’s happened before, and it’ll definitely happen once again. 

“Don’t be daft, let me look at it,” Mumbo insists with a stubborn frown. He reaches for the gremlin’s arm, quietly yelling in protest when the other evades his grasp. 

“Wouldn't you look at that? Isn’t that the meeting room? Sorry Mumbo, it’s going to have to wait!” Grian chirps out the excuse, highly satisfied with the coincidence that they were close to the room. 

“No, you don’t! Iskall will have my head if you go in there with some type of cut!” 

“Quit worrying, I’m fine,” the short Hermit responds, diving forward when the Redstone genius makes another grab for him. Gosh is his best friend persistent. 

“You’re going to make me fall,” Mumbo complains with a gleeful smile, relieved to take a break from grieving. He feels his heart drop at the reminder of why they needed to go to the meeting room in the first place, forcing the feeling down his stomach before Grian can take notice. 

The short Hermit looks distracted from the truth as well, his angelic smile rightfully placed on his face as if nothing had happened in the first place. 

Grian shrugs in response to his complaint, flashing him a mischievous look. “It’ll serve you right, trying to chase me down the halls.” 

“I’d hardly call this chasing,” Mumbo retaliates in a teasing tone. He waits for the other Hermit to mull over a response before lunging in yet another desperate grab. His shoe makes a loud slap as it stomps against the tile, hand finally making contact with the hood of the bright red sweater. He winces when his action causes the other to yelp in surprise, carefully pulling the other into his grasp. 

“Just waiting for an opening,” he finishes with a triumphant gaze. 

“Not-!” 

“Gentlemen!” 

The pair freeze at Xisuma’s booming voice, their gaze immediately snapping sideways to meet the tired Hermit’s gaze. Originally unbeknownst to them, Grian had been caught right in front of the meeting room's doorway. 

The two Hermits immediately slide into the room without uttering a word, quickly finding a thin black chair to sit in. A moment is spent surveying the room, able to recognize XisumaVoid - his helmet unusually discarded on the ground-, Keralis, Cubfan, Joehills, and Scar already present in the room. 

“Unbelievable,” Cubfan mutters, knuckles drumming impatiently against the circular oak table. “A murderer is on the loose and you two find it fit to goof off.” 

“Now is not the time, Cub,” Scar begins with a light tone, a polite expression present on his face. Grian can hear his voice waver, a dead give-away that the ex-mayor isn’t doing too well at keeping himself collected. Not that anyone could blame the poor Hermit. 

“They’re only trying to find some light in these dark times,” Joe agrees. He must’ve heard the quiver as well, offering a sympathetic expression toward the Hermit, “It’s better than wallowing in grief.” 

“That still isn’t a good excuse,” Cub points out, irritation edging his voice. His expectant look toward Xisuma is a clear suggestion that he should address their joyous behavior as well. 

The Admin only rubs his eyes tiredly in response. It quickly becomes clear to the incoming Hermits that Cubfan’s been going on a rant before their interruption, the man already heated up and prepared for a debate. 

“I think that’s enough,” Keralis inputs gently when he realizes the tired Hermit isn’t in the mood to deal with the situation. He rises from his seat before leaning forward and casting a glance into the hallway. He can see the shadows of more Hermits approach the doorway; it would be preferred if everything didn’t immediately fall into a chaotic version of the ‘blame-game’ due to Cub’s temper. “You should know that everyone deals with grief in their own ways.” 

Grian quickly glances away from the others at Keralis’s statement. He can feel Cub’s suspicious gaze peering directly into his soul, and he suddenly feels as if he’s done something wrong. He doesn’t dare say a word, merely choosing to analyze the table’s oakwood patterns and try his best to ignore the gnawing feeling. 

His nerves tingle slightly in anxiety, a puzzled expression overcoming his facial features as to why he feels so nervous. He had simply been distracted by his best friend’s attempts to make him feel better. 

Is that really a crime? 

_Maybe it is._

Grian lifts his gaze when he hears the soft knock on the room’s open door. The familiar glint of a mechanical piece quickly catches his blue eyes, immediately recognizing it as belonging to Iskall. Stressmonster appears glued to his side, uncertainty lurking within her glossy gaze. 

It breaks the short Hermit’s heart to see the sweet Hermit in a state of silent panic, her eyes darting quickly from player to player. 

“Good evening,” Iskall utters as he makes quick strides to sit beside MumboJumbo. He carefully pulls a chair out for Stress, seating her before he takes a seat to the Redstone genius’s left. 

A few words are spoken between the pair, the gremlin refusing to eavesdrop on their conversation. The only thing that catches his attention during the exchange is how sharply Iskall breathes every once in a while. It’s a nervous tick that the younger rarely experiences from the other Hermit. 

Grian pauses hesitantly when Ethoslab and Vintagebeef appear in the room, resting his elbow on the table glumly. He can’t bring himself to look the pair in the eye; he had completely disregarded their privacy earlier. 

Next came the ZIT team, Zedaph seeming to hide behind a quiet Impulse and Tango as they enter. It feels out of character for the group; Zedaph’s always been more than happy to make a grand entrance into a room with Tango’s help. The trio only files into the room and takes their seats as quickly as possible, not even bothering to give a greeting. 

It isn’t long before the rest of the Hermits assemble into the room in a large group, nobody apart of it wanting to travel in only pairs. The decision is respectable; it chases away the possibility of the murderer being skilled enough to take two players out at the same time. 

Grian watches as everyone takes their seats, twiddling with his thumbs awkwardly when a couple Hermits hiccup and emit a few choked sobs. He gazes sorrowfully when he notices one of the sobbing Hermits to be Zedaph; Impulse is pulling him into a tight hug with Tango gazing protectively over him. 

“I’m sure we all know why this meeting has been called,” XisumaVoid starts up, his fluffy brown hair still a tad messy from the night before. His rather disheveled appearance doesn’t lessen his serious expression as he gazes over the Hermits, observing each one carefully. “About three hours ago Keralis came across Hypno’s body, and after a brief discussion with Joe, we’ve come to a dreadful resolution. 

“Someone on this ship isn’t as innocent as they appear to be.” 

The statement feels stale on the Admin’s tongue as he speaks. He can’t bear to think that someone within this fond group of players could be capable of such a thing. 

“Are you suggesting that one of us murdered him?” Doc questions, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he watches Xisuma. 

A nod quickly follows, horrified murmurs dispersing amongst the room. A few Hermits shift uncomfortably in their seats as if they didn’t wish to be seated next to anyone. 

“Are we a hundred percent sure?” False inquires; Grian notes the suspicion edging her voice slightly. 

XB’s quick to rise from his seat, “I don’t think anyone of us is capable of murdering someone.” 

“There’s no way some type of machine could’ve done this, especially with how specific certain injuries look,” Joehills states, attempting to use as soothing as a voice possible to calm the room down. “But that isn’t a reason to start pointing fingers-” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Joe,” Cubfan abruptly interrupts, a fist slamming against the table to quiet the room. 

Mumbo and Iskall both tense in response. 

“Someone murdered Hypno in cold blood and I’m not about to have a fucking tea party over it,” his brown gaze swiftly scans the room before a finger violently jabs toward a silent Welsknight. “Let’s start with Wels, you’re pretty good with a sword. Where were you when Hypno’s body was found?” 

The knight looks up with a wounded expression evident on his features, “I was with Ren in the Bridge helping him with steering. I’m handling the combat system, so I needed to be present just in case we encountered an asteroid belt.” 

“Ren?” Cub glances toward said Hermit, an eyebrow lifting. 

“It’s true. We both were in the Bridge along with TFC and Beef. Mumbo had left an hour earlier to get some sleep,” the relaxed Hermit responds without a hint of hesitance. 

Grian finds his gaze locking onto his best friend’s dark green eyes, the man looking baffled at how the conversation had turned to him. 

“I was already in my room when Hypno was found; Keralis’s yell was what woke me up. Grian and I immediately rushed down to investigate. Xisuma and Joe arrived a few minutes after,” the Redstone genius defends, turning toward the sweet builder who gave a nod of approval. 

“Which means Grian isn’t too suspicious,” Cubfan clarifies, the short Hermit not enjoying the bits of doubt wavering his voice. “False? You’re the Hermit with the most experience in PvP, did Season 8 finally cause you to snap?” 

“Excuse me?” the blonde Hermit immediately bristles. “I was exploring the second floor after take-off. Just because I have experience doesn’t mean I’d brutally murder a colleague!” 

“Oh, but you’ll happily break someone’s bone?” Cub hisses, ignoring XB's small wince. 

“Cub-” Xisuma warns, eyes narrowing at the insult thrown toward False. 

“I’m _fine,_ X. That was an accident and you know it,” she snaps. 

“An accident or you losing your grip on your sanity?” 

“And just where the hell were you during this entire time? You’ve done an awful lot of pointing fingers when you haven’t even explained yourself.” 

Cubfan pauses at False’s words, an almost thoughtful look entering his furious brown eyes. “I was preparing the lab with Cleo. We were recounting everything to make sure that nothing was broken.” 

Grian could’ve sworn a look a confusion briefly overcame ZombieCleo’s sorrowful expression. 

“Do you actually have someone to back your claim that you were exploring the second floor?” Cub questions, his hostile tone immediately picking back up. 

False’s jaw clenches at the question, silence engulfing the room. “I don’t,” she mutters under her breath. 

Cubfan can’t help but raise an eyebrow at her quiet statement. An amused laugh escapes his lips, “Now isn’t that suspicious? The most experienced PvP player on the server wasn’t near anyone at the time of Hypno’s death!” 

“Now listen here you-” 

“That’s quite enough,” Xisuma hisses, rising from his seat and shoving his chair into the wall behind him. He can feel each pair of eyes lock onto his figure, the room turning silent once again. “This is idiotic, Cub. You sound like a five-year-old trying to blame a broken vase on your sibling.” 

“Have you forgotten that someone on this ship is responsible for Hypno’s death? That they brutally murdered him before simply walking away as if nothing had happened?” Cubfan asks sharply, leaning forward. “Because right now, you just seem like you’re avoiding addressing the most obvious suspects. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your covering for this criminal.” 

Keralis cheek’s heat up at the accusation, immediately leaping to his best friend’s defense. “He would never cover for such a person, even if I was the murderer!” 

“Don’t think you don’t look suspicious, Keralis. Mumbo said that you were the first one to discover Hypno, which means that you were unaccounted for during that time. You could’ve easily killed him and put on one hell of a performance for Grian and Mumbo.” 

Keralis’s muscles turn rigid, gaze ice cold as he studies Cubfan for a few moments. The bearded Hermit looks smug over his point, a grin present on his face. He can feel tears well up in his frustrated eyes, violently turning his head to the side in an unsuccessful attempt to hide them. 

“If you don’t sit your ass down within the next five seconds, I’m coming over there and declaring you as Hypno’s murderer,” Xisuma curls his lips back in a snarl. His seething glare locks onto Cubfan’s stunned expression; the Hermit isn’t sure how to respond to the aggression being displayed by their patient Admin. As soon as the other regains control over himself he sits down, falling silent and withdrawing from the conversation. 

“That’s better,” he huffs as he runs a finger through his disheveled hair. He takes a few seconds to regain himself, forcing himself to steady his breathing. “I apologize for that,” he announces; bits of shame dot his vision at the terrified looks he’s receiving. “Do we have anyone present that wasn’t near someone when Hypno was murdered?” 

Hesitantly, shaky hands begin to raise. 

“Okay, let’s start with Stress.” 

Mumbo grabs Iskall’s wrist to keep the man grounded as the female Hermit stands up from her chair. He knows the other wants to jump to her defense, choosing to calm him with words of how she isn’t going to be accused like False had. 

“Well, I was in MedBay, waiting for Joe to come back. H-he'd gone out to find you.” 

“Joe?” 

“She's telling the truth, X. MedBay’s all the way on the first floor; she wouldn’t have had time to make it to the third floor in between the time I left and when Keralis discovered Hypno.” 

“I see. Thank you, Stress, you may take your seat.” 

XisumaVoid watches the Hermit shakily sit back down. “Iskall?” 

“I was fixing some wires right down the hall,” he responds, his teeth slightly gritting. 

“Down the hall from this room?” Xisuma asks hesitantly. He quickly hushes a few startled gasps that broke throughout the room when Iskall nods. “That would mean that you would’ve been near where Hypno was discovered.” 

The Swedish Hermit anxiously meets the Admin’s emotionless expression. “I suppose that’s true.” 

“Did you see anyone walking by the halls while you were repairing wires? Did you hear anything from Hypno, like sounds of someone struggling?” 

“No, nobody was there. I didn’t hear Hypno either-” Iskall breaks himself off, his gaze hardening at the realization of how suspicious his responses sound. “I didn’t kill him, X. You know that I could never do such a thing-” 

“I never said you did,” the Admin responds with an even tone. “I just find it difficult to imagine that you didn’t hear Hypno. It surely looked like what he went through was painful.” 

“I-I know this looks bad, but I swear I didn’t hear or see anything.” 

“Xisuma, he zones out whenever he works on something important,” Mumbo interjects in a frantic tone as he rises from his seat. 

“Sit down, Mumbo.” 

Said Hermit miserably takes a seat once more, a hand pressing against his forehead. He slouches, dread piling in his stomach. 

“Thank you for your input, Iskall. You may sit,” Xisuma announces, turning his attention toward the other raised hands. 

“Zedaph, do you mind sharing as well?” 

Impulse comfortingly pats his shoulder, Tango giving the shorter a hug before he rises. 

“Uh, sure. I was messing with a small contraption in electrical; it’s where our workstations are,” Zedaph explains with a nervous expression. 

“Impulse, did you send Iskall to go repair those wires?” 

Said Hermit quickly nods his head despite being unprepared for the question. “Yeah, Tango and I had forgotten to check on the panel that had a few screws missing, so we sent him to take a look at it. I was going to send Zedaph, but Iskall said there wasn’t a point in walking all the way back to electrical just to send someone else out.” 

“Thank you.” 

Grian felt himself drift off as Xisuma turned to question Jevin and Etho over their whereabouts. His mind can’t help but stick to the idea of Iskall having something to do with Hypno’s death. If the Swedish was only a few halls down from the body, he technically should’ve even been there before Mumbo and Grian. 

He understands that the Hermit’s known for drifting slightly out of reality when working on Redstone contraptions, but Keralis had _shrieked._ A horrific noise like that surely would’ve grasped his attention and had him running toward the scene. 

The short Hermit’s dreaded thoughts are quickly interrupted by Xisuma addressing someone else. 

“Scar, care to share?” 

Said Hermit’s slow to stand from his seat, briefly surveying the room before speaking. “I was down in storage, making sure all the supplies were accounted for,” he responds in a simple tone. 

“Uh...Scar?” 

The ex-mayor turns toward BDubs’s quivering voice, his heart dropping in his chest at the look of betrayal being expressed toward him. 

_Ah, this isn't good._

“XB and I were in storage the entire time, and not once did we see you.” 

Scar feels himself freeze in place, unsure how to recover from the Hermit’s words. He doesn’t have to glance toward xB to know the man’s nodding in confirmation over BDoubleO’s words. 

“Do you have something to say?” Xisuma’s voice lowers into a near-whisper, making the ex-mayor flinch. 

“No, I do not.” 

“Very well. We’ll move onto Doc then.” 

Grian doesn’t question the Admin’s decision to move on so quickly, curious as to how he’s planning to handle each suspicious piece of information being given. 

“I left about 20 minutes after Mumbo did to explore around, and I was making my way toward the quarters when Keralis yelled out,” a pen spins expertly within the hybrid’s grasp to use as a distraction from the fact that everyone’s attention is fixated on him. “I was one of the last Hermits to arrive at the scene, just about the time when everyone began to disperse.” 

“And you’ve got nobody to vouch for your actions during your time of exploration?” 

“Not a soul.” 

“That sums up everyone then,” Xisuma finishes, satisfied with wrapping up the meeting. “You are all dismissed with the exception of Cub, False, Iskall, Scar, BDubs, as well as Doc. Joe, Keralis, you both are permitted to stay if you so desire. 

“Everyone else may return to their stations in groups no less than two and start back up with ensuring that this flight runs as smoothly as possible. 

“Grian, you’ll be in charge of the Bridge until Doc’s return.” 

The short Hermit nods numbly at the information, quickly rising from his seat alongside Mumbo. The pair make their exit quick, the mustached Hermit looking rather pale with clenched fists. 

“Mumbo-?” 

“He’s innocent, Grian.” 

He doesn’t need clarification to know who the other’s talking about, “I’m not doubting that-” 

Mumbo stares wistfully down the hall as they make their way to the Bridge. “I can hear it in your voice,” he murmurs, “I know how suspicious it looks but Iskall would never even think about killing someone.” 

“There were other people who looked suspicious as well,” Grian points out after a few beats of hesitation. Did he seriously sound doubtful over Iskall’s innocence? 

“But he’s still a suspect,” the older argues, though his voice never raises to display his unease. “What happens if he ends up being wrongfully convicted? Xisuma could ban him, o-or he could sentence him to death-” 

“He’d never do that,” Grian interrupts, a hand finding his best friend’s in an attempt to soothe him. “Xisuma isn’t unreasonable. He isn’t going to do something drastic without piles of evidence against them.” 

“Piles of evidence,” Mumbo repeats with a bitter laugh, “He was supposedly near the site where Hypno was killed and said he didn’t hear or see a thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cub jumps him on the spot over it.” 

“Iskall zones out when fixing important things, just like you said,” Grian silently fights the growing panic of their close friend possibly having something to do with the murder. “He just zoned out at the wrong time.” 

Perhaps if he repeats it, he’ll convince himself that the statement’s true. 

_We can’t afford to lose another innocent Hermit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, these Hermits do be acting kinda sus.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suspicious Hermits discuss the prime suspect of who murdered Hypno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saekllalalemef
> 
> I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out; for some reason I struggled with finding the motivation to write it. Just a heads up, my schedule might slow down due to school.
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy Chapter 8!
> 
> Warnings:  
> Swearing  
> Mentions of a minor character's death

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Scar.” 

Disappointment coats his friend’s voice as if it were slime, each word sliding its way painfully into the ex-mayor's mind. He heaves a panicked sigh as he slouches the cool surface of the chair. The sheer number of eyes focusing on him keep him glued to his seat, not daring to make a single movement less it could incriminate him more. 

He can see Cub pinch his nose in frustration in the background while his hazy gaze traces the swirls that the wooden table creates. He can’t bring himself to gaze up at the crowd of accused Hermits, shoulders trembling in his seat. 

Xisuma’s fingers drum the table, the Admin silently debating how to deal with the massive amount of suspicion being placed on the other’s shoulders. If Scar’s red face tells him anything, it’s that the player knows he’s been caught in a lie. 

His heart twists when the movement of rising from his chair and approaching ex-mayor causes him to flinch, head jerking backward as if he had expected to be grabbed. “Scar.” 

“Xisuma,” said Hermit whispers; tears blur his vision as he finally glances up at the Admin. He looks...confused and uncertain; sparks of hope ignite within Scar. “I-I know this looks awful,” he chokes out as if the ability to speak had suddenly grown to be a difficult task. 

“It does.” 

Scar hates how blunt the response is. “I didn’t have anything to do with Hypno’s death, I-” 

“Then why the hell did you lie about being somewhere during the discovery of his body?” Doc’s cold tone cuts through the suspicious Hermit like a knife. “You should have nothing to hide if you’re innocent.”

“I-It’s not that simple-!” 

“How is it not simple?” Iskall finds himself questioning, arms crossed to display his distrust toward the ex-mayor. Pangs of guilt jab at his stomach for acting accusatory toward the other, the reminder that he had also been accused of murdering Hypno quickly pushing aside his guilt. He is _not_ going to be taking the fall for something Scar did.

“Now, now,” Joehills pipes up, noticing the tension beginning to fill the room once more. “Xisuma’s supposed to be the one asking him questions.

“I thought that was Cub’s job.”

Doc’s bitter mutter is ignored by the room in favor of placing their attention back on Xisuma.

“We just need to know why you lied about your whereabouts,” the Admin calmly begins, forcing himself to remain void of emotion. It’s typically easier to hide them with his helmet on, but this is a matter that requires the careful study of one’s facial features. A single twitch of someone’s lip could lead to a clear sign that they’ve found their murderer.

Scar swallows thickly. “I was in storage,” he repeats firmly.

BDoubleO couldn’t stop himself from rising from his seat. “That is a bunch of boo-hawk and you know it,” he scolds with a tight frown. “XB and I were there the entire time and not once did we see you,” he declares.

“There’s no point in keeping up with your lie, Scar,” FalseSymmetry mutters, glaring at the ex-mayor. “You’ve already been caught in it.”

“At least have the decency to admit it,” Doc adds.

“Fine! I lied!” Scar could feel his chest rapidly rise and fall with each word. His brain desperately fights to keep himself from breaking down, needing to defend itself from the serious accusations in coherent sentences. “But it wasn’t because I killed Hypno – You guys, I – I could never do something like that!”

“Then why would you lie?” Frustration bleeds into Xisuma’s once slightly comforting voice.

“I had to,” the ex-mayor mutters under his breath, eyes clenching shut as he tries to focus on his breathing. He'd never kill another Hermit; everyone’s always been so nice to him. 

“Clarify.”

Silence.

“There’s nothing to hide, Scar. You’re being accused of murdering someone for goodness sake!” Xisuma points out. There isn’t a single surprise party’s secrecy that could be important than finding the killer.

“Why would Scar kill Hypno anyway? He doesn’t have a single motive,” Cub interjects when Scar doesn’t speak up to defend himself.

“Oh, look who’s jumping to his defense,” Iskall huffs, “Are you seriously blind enough to not see that Scar murdered Hypno and then tried to play it off naturally? He even let me try and take the blame!”

“I didn’t murder him!” the suspicious Hermit yells, surprising himself at the sheer volume of his voice.

“That’s bullshit.” Iskall retaliates.

“You thinking that you’re not goddamn suspicious is bullshit as well,” Cubfan snaps back, forcing the room’s attention back on himself. “You said you never saw Hypno getting murdered while you were _right around the corner._ ”

“I didn’t hear anything! At least I didn’t feel the need to lie about my location. If I was the murderer, why would I put myself in the spotlight?”

“To make yourself seem less suspicious of course! It’s real simple-”

“Cub, you need to back down right now,” Keralis interrupts with a serious expression present on his face. His voice is soft, still looking frustratedly at the table.

Cubfan’s mouth wrenches open to spill a snarky comment, his words interrupted yet again by someone else.

Joehills shakes his head disappointedly, “Cub, I know how close you and Scar are, but you have to put that aside. Scar has _lied_ about his location at the time of the murder. He’d only ever need to lie if he was doing something wrong.”

A quiet noise of distress emits from the accused Hermit, causing Cub to physically slump in his seat.

“It can’t be true,” the bearded Hermit objects. “Scar doesn’t have enemies-”

False snorts, “Have you forgotten about the war we had? He literally declared war on a group of Hermits for liking a purple block better than the normal grass block.”

“That was all good fun, just like the Civil War,” Cubfan has to growl in order to keep his voice from wavering.

“We almost had casualties from traps, Cub!”

“Traps the other team set,” Scar mutters quietly. He immediately falls silent when his only ally snaps his fingers at him.

“You set your own fair share of traps,” Doc verbally pushes the information out for the rest of the Hermits to grasp on.

“I don’t know how this is a debate,” Iskall angrily mutters, arms crossed. He typically doesn’t act so pessimistic and accusatory, but hearing the murder of another Hermit had taken place had driven him to want to help and find the murderer before someone else gets hurt.

“It’s a debate because Scar deserves to defend himself,” XisumaVoid points out, blocking his feelings of frustration. This conversation had gone full circle; someone presents evidence, Cubfan immediately jumps to the defense and points fingers elsewhere, Scar denies, and they’re back to square one.

“He’s not doing too good of a job at defending,” Joehills gently murmurs. “It’s really only Cub trying to dig him out of this situation.”

“It’s a thing called being loyal,” said Hermit hisses.

“Loyalty to a traitor,” Doc absentmindedly comments.

“I - I’m not sure how to defend myself. I’m just not guilty.”

“That’s not good enough,” BDubs pipes up. “I don’t think Scar has it in him to murder someone, but the evidence stacking against you isn’t looking too good.”

“If he says he’s innocent, then he’s innocent,” Cubfan repeats.

“You’re only digging yourself a grave right next to Scar’s,” BDubs mutters under his breath.

“If you were smart enough to know what loyalty is, you wouldn’t be turning so quickly on him.”

BDubs barks a sorrowful laugh, “Oh, yeah. Loyalty to a murderer? Color me stoked that you’re loyal to a murderer.”

Cubfan’s eye twitches.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” XisumaVoid announces with a tight frown. “I hate to admit it as well, but Scar looks like a prime suspect. I’ll need to think about this some more, but in the meantime, this meeting is over.

“BDubs, do we have some type of room we could hold Scar in until I make an official decision?”

The nod looks a little too enthusiastic for the Admin’s liking. “We sure do! I made a couple of cells on the second floor to add some aesthetic to the ship. A build's not perfect if it doesn’t have every amount of detail possible put into it.”

Any hope fluttering about Scar’s chest instantly crashes into the unforgiving ground. “A _cell?_ ”

“This is outrageous,” Cub and the ex-mayor protest in unison.

“It’s just a precaution,” Xisuma doesn’t offer a comforting smile; his eyebrows are furrowed to complete his conflicted expression. “We’ll have two Hermits watch over him at all times.”

“I’ll take the first shift,” FalseSymmetry offers. “Since we don’t necessarily fight anyone on our trip to the new season, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Same with me,” BDoubleO agrees.

“Then it’s decided. False and BDubs will show Scar to his...room, and the rest of you may return to your stations. I’ll get Impulse and his team to tackle the lack of communication we have with each other straight away.”

Iskall raises a hand as opposed to interrupting the Admin. “I can tell him to meet you in this room on my way back,” he offers.

“Yes, thank you, Iskall.”

“Keralis, want to come with?” the Swedish Hermit asks softly, noting how quiet the cheerful man has been.

“I’m gonna hang out with Shashwammy.”

Iskall shrugs and begins to walk out of the room, “Stay safe!”

Doc and Joe rise from their seats as well to bid their goodbyes. When Cubfan doesn’t stand up to leave, the creeper hybrid firmly grasps his shoulder and forces him up from his seat.

“You don’t want to keep Cleo waiting, do you, Cub?” Doc asks sharply.

“I...no, I don’t.”

XisumaVoid watches the three leave without another word uttered. Now to deal with the other four in the room.

“X, _please_ -”

“This is for the best, Scar.”

“Don’t, don’t tell me that you don’t believe me either,” Scar lunges to his feet, looking desperately at the Admin. He searches the man’s face for any sort of comfort; he's met with a blank canvas of a face, each feature void of emotion. He takes a step toward their leader.

False immediately moves in-between them, shaking her head. “X has already made up his mind.”

“It's alright, Scar. I promise the holding cells have a modern appeal to them,” BDubs can feel his shoulders tense when the accused Hermit glances at him with a panicked expression.

Tears spill from the ex-mayor's eyes, streaming down his face. “I - I didn’t, didn’t do it! Please, X, please please, _please_. I’d never never never hurt Hypno, I’d never-!”

False motions toward the door, “Resisting is only going to incriminate you further. Please just come with us."

“But I’m innocent!” he wails, lunging around False in an attempt to get face-to-face with Xisuma. He yells when the blonde woman yanks him to the floor, guilt flashing in her gaze. She fastens Scar’s hands behind his back, holding them there as BDub’s helps the ex-mayor to his feet.

“If you’re innocent then you have nothing to worry about, Scar. As soon as we figure who the real murderer is, we’ll let you out and everything will go back to normal.”

Keralis winces at how uncertain Xisuma’s words sound, and judging by Scar’s expression of disbelief, he could hear it as well.

“I’m innocent, I’m innocent,” Scar repeats frantically, feet digging into the floor to keep False from moving him toward the door. “Falsy, BDubs-”

BDoubleO feels pangs of anguish slap against his heart at the hopeless sobs emitting from his friend. He ached to comfort him, a hand brushing against Scar’s arm. “Hey, we’re gonna figure this out but you need to cooperate with us.”

_What a contrast to his accusatory behavior earlier._

Keralis pauses at the thought, eyes widening. What an awful thing to think about; Bubbles doesn’t deserve to have such a comment made about him, even if it wasn’t spoken aloud.

“I’m innocent,” Scar whispers in response, his struggles dying off and enabling the trio to exit the room.

“Stay safe,” False calls from the hallway.

“You as well,” Keralis answers tiredly. He glances toward XisumaVoid, heart cracking at how the man’s face buries itself within his hands. His shoulders quake slightly; silent sobs wrack throughout the other’s trembling figure. He extends a hand to place on the Admin’s arm.

“Oh, Shashwammy...”

“No, Keralis,” XisumaVoid snaps, hot tears streaming down his face. “I need to think right now, not be reassured.”

Keralis frowns at having been snapped at. “You’re not thinking right now,” he responds as he attempts to find his voice. “You’re just wallowing in frustration over your decision.”

“Well, what else could I do?” XisumaVoid asks, voice muffled by his own hands that are cupped around his face. “Scar’s never going to trust us again if he didn’t do it.”

“You’re doing this with everyone’s best interest.”

“I said I didn’t want to be reassured,” he mutters.

“Too bad,” Keralis finds himself growling his words. “You had a tough decision to make and you made the decision that kept everyone safe. How would it feel if you let him go and then another Hermit was killed?”

Both shudder at the thought of such an event occurring.

“Trust me. A loss in trust is better than the loss of another life.”

“...”

“...”

“...I hate it when you’re right.”

“You always do.”

Keralis surprisingly finds a soft smile light his face, feeling the tension lift from the room. “You better hope I don’t find you wasting away in your room. The crew needs you to be around more than ever right now.

“We’re not sure who to trust right now, but we do know that we can count on your decisions to get us through this.”

“What if they don’t like my decision? What if they want to revolt because I’m placing Scar on a lockdown?”

“XisumaVoid, don’t you _dare_ think about that. Everyone knows you only want what’s best for us. If Scar spending a few nights in lockdown saves everyone, it’ll be well worth it.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t think about it,” the Admin promises. He can feel the streams of tears beginning to slow down at Keralis’s words.

“Good,” the sweet Hermit laughs softly at how stern his voice had gotten when scolding the other. “Don’t forget the loyalty and trust everyone has in you.”

_All hell will break loose if you do._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bridge Crew figures out who the prime suspect is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the inconsistent upload schedule! This chapter's a little shorter than normally so I'll be posting a second chapter later this week :)
> 
> Enjoy this chapter! Remember to leave feedback in the comments if you have any. It provides a lot of motivation for me to continue this work.

Grian’s bright blue eyes flicker toward the quiet clock sitting neatly on Doc’s untouched work station, mind anxiously curious as to when the next soft click would signify the change of the minute. A pen drums mindlessly against his chin; it draws an invisible line across his face every once in a while, a reminder to double-check how long the rest of the group’s been out. It’d been about an hour since XisumaVoid had dismissed the nonsuspicious Hermits back to their work stations. 

Possibilities of how the meeting was going swirl throughout his impatient mind. It was guaranteed that their Admin has complete control over the situation; the only person likely to talk back would be Cubfan. However, judging by how the meeting with everyone went, it’s safe to assume that the man is most likely keeping his thoughts mainly to himself. 

The foul comment Cub had made toward Keralis still leaves bitter traces on his tongue. 

The poor builder had merely stumbled upon the body of one of his friends, and to be accused of committing such a horrific act... 

_Xisuma’s_ _definitely going to give him a piece of his mind when he gets the chance._

The silent thought brings a frown to his lips. The air aboard the ship already feels suffocating with the sudden threat of death looming over each Hermit; they don’t need more strained relations between Hermits. If they’re to catch the traitor who killed Hypno, they’ll have to work together and refrain from being at each other’s throats. 

Grian’s eyes briefly drift from the clock to peer at his best friend, who was fiddling with a pen just as he’s been doing for the past 30 minutes. His broad shoulders jolt slightly, a clear sign that the man’s bouncing his leg in an attempt to calm himself. His gaze is fastened anxiously on a piece of paper in front of him, merely staring at it with no intent to complete whatever work was assigned to him. 

The short Hermit loudly taps his pen twice on the desk to gain his best friend’s attention, forcing a kind smile in hopes it’ll slightly put his friend’s nerves at ease. 

He knows how close Iskall and Mumbo have grown over the years; the pair have known each other longer than he’s known Mumbo. Merely the idea of losing him is already extremely unnerving for him; he can’t imagine how painful the idea is to the typically composed Hermit. They’ve been a trio since Grian came to the server; they couldn’t beat the bond between the ZIT Trio, but their group’s a close second. 

Without the Swedish Hermit, who else would make plans of doom? Who else would give others the compliment of their build being ‘omega’? 

There’d be nothing but a gap without Iskall. A hole will make itself present within every Hermit’s heart that they’ll never listen to his infectious laugh ever again. 

Mumbo momentarily lifts his eyes to shoot him a dry smile back. He opens his mouth to call out to the short Hermit, the pair launching themselves from their seat when a horrified shriek rings throughout the ships. Pleads and screams of ‘no’ tear through their ears like nails on a chalkboard. 

Grian doesn’t hesitate to fling himself toward the entrance of the Bridge, heart desperate to reach whoever was screaming bloody murder. They couldn’t have another murder happen; Hypno’s death would not be followed by a trail of bodies. 

He would _not_ be the Hermit that stood by while someone was slaughtered like a cow in the Overworld. 

“Grian, wait-!” 

Said Hermit ignores Mumbo’s yell, the man’s voice thick with concern over his best friend’s determination to walk toward the pained screams. He nearly stumbles when he hears the man’s professional shoes slam against the tile in an attempt to catch up and stop him, desperation lacing each smack of the shoe. 

The sound only encourages Grian to run faster, his eyes fixated on the archway leading into the hall. 

_We can save them. We can help them. It’s not too late-!_

The short Hermit bursts into the hallway, yelling when the chilling feeling of ice-cold metal grasps his shoulder and yanks him to the ground. He stumbles onto his back with a pained groan, arms protecting his head from bouncing against the hard flooring. 

“Doc, what the hell-!” 

Grian growls in irritation when his attempt to get up is immediately foiled by the hybrid swiping his legs out from under him and causing him to fall back to the mocking ground. “There’s someone in trouble-!” 

“No, there’s not,” Doc responds nonchalantly as if he couldn't hear the screams stemming from down the hall. His emotionless gaze stares down at the short Hermit’s heaving chest, the younger still worked up by the yells.

“What do you mean there’s not?” he spits as the older finally lets him scramble to his feet. “Somebody’s yelling for help!” 

The anxious Hermit bristles when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder; he could immediately identify the person offering comfort beside him as Mumbo. 

“What’s going on, Doc?” the mustached man demands softly, his eyebrows furrowing to state his confusion. “What happened at the meeting?” 

The hybrid glances at the wall behind him before heaving a stress-filled sigh. “Xisuma made his decision about who he thinks the murderer is.” 

Grian watches as his best friend’s face falls, his gentle demeanor vanishing within seconds. The hand on his shoulder falls in favor of the taller moving closer to the Chief Officer. 

“Who? Who did he decide?” the gremlin asks impatiently, his heart racing at how the oldest deflates at his question. 

“A name; we need a name,” Mumbo adds without giving Doc much time to respond to Grian’s question. So help him, if Iskall's in any sort of trouble-

“Scar.” 

Grian can feel relief flood his mind, only for dread to tighten his chest once more. He hesitates at the idea of Scar murdering Hypno; the Hermit’s one of the nicest people on the server, there’s no way he could’ve thought of doing something like that, let alone go through with it. 

That would indeed explain the yells and pleads of ‘no’ emitting from somewhere in the ship. 

_Wait, why would he plead no-?_

“Scar’s fine,” Doc must've read his mind for he swiftly began explaining before the short Hermit could panic any further, “Xisuma doesn’t have enough evidence for a conviction yet so he’s keeping him under close watch. False and BDubs are taking the first shift of watching over him.” 

The words gently wash away the whirlpool of thoughts flooding his mind. It works tirelessly until his heart begins to calm, mouth tight in an attempt to provide a further distraction for himself. 

_If Scar’s the decided suspect, then we shouldn’t have to worry about anything else going wrong. But we should still be cautious. False and_ _BDubs_ _are already making sure he’s comfortable wherever he is, not to mention that they’re providing him with company as well._

The idea of one of Scar’s closest friends during Season 7 watching over him assists in calming him down. 

“And...?” Mumbo mutters, embarrassment dripping into his relieved tone. 

Doc offers a knowing smirk toward the slightly shorter Hermit, displaying two of his fangs. “Iskall’s fine, Mumbo. He went back to regroup with Team ZIT. You’ll have to talk to him about getting his hearing checked; it wouldn’t be in his best interest to have two Redstone components attached to his head.” 

With the information given, he ushers the two back into the Bridge with a silent demand for them to get back to work. A frown conquers his expression when he finds everyone else stood up from their chairs, having been alarmed by the distant screams yet too worried to leave each other alone. 

“Everyone, back to work, everything’s fine and under control,” Doc announces, glaring harshly at Wels who had opened his mouth to ask what could be assumed was a bucket load of questions.

“Everything doesn’t sound fine,” VintageBeef comments, obviously unconvinced by their Chief Officer’s words.

The hybrid heaves yet another sigh, fingers pushing into his eyebrows to display his annoyance with having to repeat the situation to the Bridge Crew. “Scar is our prime suspect; Xisuma wanted him to be placed on lockdown with two Hermits watching over him at all time. As you can tell, he’s not too happy about being labeled as a possible murderer.” 

“Are you certain X decided on Scar?” TFC questions, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

Grian couldn't blame him for not immediately believing such a wild claim, the possibility of him doing such a thing is outlandish. The man did have some...disclosed history that he only wished to share with Cubfan. Not even BDubs or Doc had been given a story as to why he maintains such large scars cutting through his chin.

Doc only gives a nod toward the eldest Hermit before moving toward his desk. “I will be answering no further questions. Xisuma should be more willing to provide clarification on everything and how the situation will be handled. If you all want to gossip, do it _after_ we’re done ensuring that this ship doesn’t fall apart.” 

The crew quiets down yet again, Grian and Mumbo returning to their respective desks without another word to each other. His best friend appears calmer at the news that Iskall remains safe, eyes no longer nervously glancing about. Not to mention that the idea of the most suspected murderer isn't wondering about the ship without someone watching over him is slightly relaxing for the pair.

The short Hermit catches a few Hermits muttering under their breath in speculation, most attempting to connect how their loving ex-mayor could be capable of brutally murdering a friend. 

Doc’s finger loudly drums against his desk, each Hermit falling silent at the unspoken warning. The softened purr of the engine works to shoo away complete silence, the noise attempting to provide a bit of comfort to the pondering crew members.

If Scar had truly murdered Hypno, what had made him snap? 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scar's never handled isolation well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Another chapter so soon?
> 
> I sincerely hope you all enjoy: "Chapter 10 - Let's Check In With Scar's Mental Health"

“I’m not a murderer, I’m telling you... 

“Please let me out, I’m innocent, I’m so, so innocent... 

“I don’t-” 

A broken sob briefly interrupts his soft words. 

“I don’t want to be alone...” 

Scar’s head bows in defeat when only silence follows his words, his forehead pressing against the cool metal of the door locked shut in front of him. His eyes momentarily clench shut in anguish; why would he care to gaze into the harsh grey of metal? He pauses to search for any sort of distraction, carefully lifting his head. Liquid fills his gaze as he stares at the white flooring and walls, hot tears running down his pale cheeks. The liquid burns as it slides down the side of his face, reminding him of his jaw that had been aching from clenching it for so long. 

The room is a little smaller than his original bedroom with a single end rod emitting light; the white flooring and white walls clash in a way that makes him feel dizzy. It nearly looks like a replica of the infinity room, the only items breaking the illusion being the small cot bolted to the ground and the grey door looming tauntingly over him. 

Not a single window lays in sight, completely isolating the ex-mayor in his own world of loneliness. 

There isn’t a desk he can use to draw plans for Season 8 builds; the room lacks decoration, something he would’ve assumed BDubs would’ve been on top of immediately. 

_I guess prisoners don’t deserve_ _luxury_ _._

Scar bites his lip anxiously at the thought, not keen on the idea of being considered a prisoner. He’s simply locked inside of a poorly lit room, one that’s smaller than everyone else’s, one that he can’t ask to be opened, one that shields him away from everyone he’s ever known, one that marks him as nothing but a criminal- 

His fingers wrap into a fist, knuckles desperately tapping on the door in hopes of getting any sort of response from the two Hermits awaiting behind it. His fist tightens with every knock he makes on the door, patiently waiting for someone to give in and open it. 

He could already imagine the exchange simply waiting to take place once the door slides open. They’ll realize their mistake, he knows it. 

He can’t wait for BDoubleO to open the door with his signature smile. 

“ _Mayor Scar! You haven’t a clue as to how much I’ve missed you!”_

_Said Hermit leaps to his feet in joy, his bright green gaze lighting up in relief that one of his best friends had come to rescue him from this everlasting hell of isolation. He can’t stop himself from yanking the shorter Hermit into his grasp, hugging him with a smile that could rival the one_ _BDubs_ _always had displayed during Season 7._

_“You came back for me!”_

_“Of course, I did!” the Hermit responds proudly, eyes shining brightly. “I spoke with_ _Xisuma_ _as soon as my shift to watch you was over. I talked it over with him and he agreed that you couldn’t possibly kill someone._

_“That’d just be crazy!”_

_Scar only laughs to display his agreement, taking in each slightly slurred syllable that the Hermit had to offer. He could never grow tired of the man’s accent; it was a unique trait that nobody he had ever met had before._

_It made_ _BDubs_ _, well, BDubs!_

_“And I’m here too,” a voice calls out from behind the bandanaed Hermit. He could immediately recognize the voice as belonging to Cubfan._

_“Cub!” Scar cheers, abandoning_ _BDubs_ _momentarily in favor of hugging the newest arriver. “It's so good to see you both,” his voice remains muffled as he talks into the man’s_ _lab coat_ _._

_“Just doing my duty,” the ex-pharaoh points out as he returns the hug. He doesn’t attempt to pull Scar away, completely content with receiving a hug from the man who had always remained by his side. “I knew you were innocent from the moment I saw you after Hypno’s body was reported._

_“Unlike_ some _people.”_

_“Hey!”_

_A sob-filled laugh emits from Scar’s mouth at the banter that he’s missed so much._

_“Are you doing alright?” Cub asks as concern seeps into his voice. “You’ve only been locked in here for about two hours.”_

_“That’s two hours more than I would’ve liked,” he jokes in response, hiccups beginning to interrupt his speech._

_The tallest of the trio lets out a soft chuckle. “That’s fair enough._

_“I get employee of the month for staying by your side, right?”_

_“Will you quit it!”_ _BDubs_ _playfully scolds, shaking his fist in an attempt to look menacing to_ _Cubfan_ _. “You were supposed to be the enforcer of the rules.”_

_“Yeah, of the_ rules. _Not of accusing people,” he teases back. The playful twinkle in the bearded Hermit’s eye never leaves, even as he turns back to Scar. “Why did you lie about being in storage anyway? Y’know, it would’ve been a lot easier to back you up had you simply said where you really were.”_

_“What does it matter? I’m free now. I can explore the ship! I-I can get my own food! I can talk with everyone and say good morning or good night. I can congratulate everyone on their hard work...”_

_“Restore the sense of normalcy!”_ _BDubs_ _declares loudly._

_“Exactly!” Scar cries out in glee._

_The ex-mayor then grasps the two of them, yanking them into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you both...so much...”_

_“Aww, we’ve missed you too,”_ _BDoubleO_ _coos, giving into the hug without putting up a fight._

_“Yes, we have,”_ _Cubfan_ _grins, ruffling both of the shorter Hermits’ hair._

“Hey!” 

Scar lifts his head to jokingly tell the grey-bearded man off for messing with his hair, heart twisting when his hand doesn’t make contact with the ex-pharaoh's signature lab coat. The two figures of Cubfan and BDubs have vanished, nothing more than a figment of his imagination. 

“W-wait, no, come back. 

“Cub? BDubs? Where’d you guys go?” 

The ex-mayor whips his head around in an attempt to see if the two were simply playing a trick on him. They had come back to him, right? They’d told Xisuma that this was all a misunderstanding and now he’s going to be set free. 

He could go talk to everyone freely and resume his position right by the Admin’s side. Right where he belongs. 

“And we’ll all laugh about this later, over a few drinks. 

“Right, Cub and BDubs?” 

Scar slumps to the ground when he’s once again met with silence and an empty environment. 

_They’re not coming back for me, are they?_

The ex-mayor shakily lifts his knees, burying his face into his legs with his back toward the door. His shoulders quiver as he finally gives into mindless sobs, taking little enjoyment as to how it fulfilled his need for there to be something going on in the background. 

His hand traces aimlessly at the scars lining his chin, eyes once again clenching shut as tears flow freely from them. He’s tired of struggling and fighting against everything and everyone. 

Why couldn’t the server just believe his innocence like Cub did? 

“You’re right,” Scar mutters in between his sobs and hiccups. “They never changed one bit.” 

The ex-mayor curls further into a ball, teeth clenching hard as his nerves quake in protest. He can feel his mouth grow numb from all the pressure being placed against his teeth though he merely continues his cries and soft pleads for anyone to come to find him. 

The door behind him isn’t going to open; it never was planned to be opened again. He could hope and believe that it would all he wanted but it wouldn’t magically unlock the frustrating thing. He’s sure Xisuma won’t even talk to him – killing another Hermit is unspeakable. Deaths on the server have always taken a massive toll on the surviving players. 

The knowledge of never seeing someone again is difficult to comprehend within their mind. Someone who’s been joyous and always had your back vanishing into oblivion...nothing more than strings of code dispersed throughout the air. 

Scar’s eyes widen as his mind reflects toward the system’s code. Xisuma’s the only Hermit with the ability to program or control it. And if their powerful Admin’s frustrated with him over the idea of death... 

Xisuma...he could ban him, couldn’t he? 

The friendly Hermit’s already extremely suspicious that he could’ve truly been the one to kill Hypno; a ban would certainly be a proper punishment for being found guilty of such a horrid crime. If there truly was a heaven and hell beyond their existence, having a ban placed upon someone would send them straight to the bottom. 

He’s heard stories about being placed upon the ban list. He’s been told that it’s the worst thing that could possibly happen to someone; they’d be condemned to eternal isolation, placed on what’s been described as spectator mode in an endless black abyss. The player would never grow hungry or thirsty, left alone with nobody but their thoughts to occupy the time. 

Scar’s always despised absolute silence, being banned has been his worst nightmare ever since he was younger. A small sniffle escapes his mouth, head shaking at the sole idea of a ban. He’d easily be forgotten about by the other Hermits; who would dare to remember the person who had been found guilty of murdering someone? 

But he can’t be banned; not for at least two weeks. Xisuma can’t properly use the code until their back on solid ground, which means that as long as he plays it safe, he could dig himself out of this situation. 

“They still won’t believe you.” 

Scar leaps to his feet at the ice-cold voice, heart racing over the unexpected guest. His green gaze quickly sweeps the white room; where the Void had the voice come from? 

“You don’t know that,” the ex-mayor mutters, tightening his grip on his legs. He gently rocks back and forth in an attempt to calm himself back down, a bit shaken from the negative comment uttered from somewhere around the room. 

“And what makes you think they will? What's the point in trying to save yourself when Xisuma’s already convinced you’ve done it?” 

“He’s not convinced!” Scar’s voice quivers with uncertainty, his green eyes blurring with more tears. “I can dig myself out of this.” 

“You can’t,” the voice comes off as a whisper, dread edging its tone. 

Silence settles within the air of the well-lit room; Scar had not a thing to say in response to the voice. Surely Xisuma isn’t patiently waiting to ban him and send him to his doom...right? 

“So,” the voice rumbles, “With the threat of eternal hell on the table, why not go out with a bang?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, I read everyone's comments with a massive smile on my face; I don't reply as it messes with the actual amount of comments for this story. I really appreciate the support, and I have to say, I adored seeing someone piecing together a theory as to who the imposter may be.
> 
> I hope you all have a splendid day!


End file.
